


Ruling with Wolves

by BecauseBraime



Series: Lions and Wolves [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Jaime is king, Major Character Injury, The Long Night, but he hates it, not Dany friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 71,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBraime/pseuds/BecauseBraime
Summary: As Jaime reluctantly settles into his role as king, he must deal with political issues, dead things, and a dragon queen making her way across the Narrow Sea. Set in late season 6 through season 8 and beyond as a follow-up to Part 1 "Rescuing Wolves".
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Catelyn Tully Stark, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark (minor)
Series: Lions and Wolves [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908454
Comments: 696
Kudos: 367





	1. "He's Alive"

**Author's Note:**

> This might be difficult to follow without reading Part 1. In this AU, Catelyn went with Brienne and Jaime to King's Landing. It had a major butterfly effect across Westeros.

It had been eight moons since Jaime was crowned king. Despite his complaints, his reign had already done much good for the realm and Brienne was proud of him. Much to their dismay, Catelyn had come no closer to finding a more suitable option for the throne.

They had fallen into a routine at the Keep. Every morning Jaime and Brienne would break their fast with Catelyn. She would note all that needed tending to that day and ensure they both hand ample time for rest. After eating, Jaime would spend his day being dragged about the Keep by Catelyn. Brienne spent her morning in the yards.

To begin the day, Brienne trained Pod, Arya, and Rickon. After training the younger castle occupants, Brienne would have her own training with the Kingsguard. She enjoyed learning from their different styles and improving her skill.

When her swordplay was done for the day, Brienne either took to the rookery to write Ser Brent or she rode into the city. Brienne had taken to visiting the city orphans.

Brienne understood the impact that losing a parent could have on a child. While she was fortunate to still have a father growing up, others were not as lucky. As part of her routine before lunch, Brienne would bring freshly baked bread and fruits to the orphanage. She would read to the children or teach them the sword.

Afterwards, Brienne returned to the Keep for lunch with Jaime. The afternoon was typically spent at his side. From time to time, Jaime would drag Brienne into a council meeting where he thought the topic might interest her. More often than not, Brienne thought it an excuse for Jaime to not feel so alone in it all.

Before supper, Brienne and Jaime sparred together. Arya had taken to watching them train and she was excited when Jaime would spar her from time to time. Being left-handed, Arya learned a lot from Jaime. The young Stark was certainly in awe of Jaime and it amused Brienne endlessly.

The time in the yard with Jaime was Brienne’s favorite time of day. She was able to be with the man she loved while doing what she loved. Supper was more formal and usually an exhausting affair.

All too often, Jaime played host to various dignitaries at Catelyn’s behest. The Stark matriarch truly was remarkable as Hand. Catelyn understood how to navigate court, appease warring Houses, and bridge kingdoms. Fortunately, Catelyn did most of the talking.

Brienne felt awkward and bumbling before other nobility. While Jaime never left her side, she felt the judgmental stares. No one dared say anything, but she knew the expressions. The men seemed to think Brienne a true curiosity. The women seemed downright scandalized by her.

On more than one occasion, Brienne had the displeasure of watching women openly flirt with Jaime. Had Jaime not expressed such outward repulsion for their behavior, Brienne might have felt like more of a failure than she already did.

For Brienne, her appearance no longer felt her greatest failure. Her newest letdown seemed her inability to conceive. Despite not having taken moon tea for eight moons, Brienne’s moonblood continued to arrive on schedule. Every moon turn, Brienne felt as though she was failing Jaime and by consequence, the realm.

Watching the young, beautiful women of court flirt with Jaime made Brienne wonder if they would have blessed him with babes by now. She worried that by choosing her, Jaime had unknowingly condemned himself to a childless existence.

Brienne’s body seemed a constant source of failure. It seemed incapable of doing anything remotely feminine. The curtsey had become the least of her issues. Then something peculiar happened three weeks ago. Brienne’s moonblood did not arrive.

At first, Brienne thought nothing of it. There had been times in Brienne’s youth where her moonblood was delayed or did not arrive. During the period of time that Septa Roelle had Brienne’s meals withheld, Brienne frequently missed her moonblood. There were also points in youth when Brienne was feeling overwhelmed or undergoing extensive training that she missed her moonblood.

Currently, Brienne assumed her moonblood was delayed due to stress. Then she began to feel queasy throughout the day. Most foods became unappealing, and Brienne felt as though she was getting sick, but with what ailment, she did not know.

Hours ago, Brienne had awoken feeling worse than usual. Making her way to the maester, Brienne knocked lightly and awaited Grand Maester Luwin’s call to enter. The Citadel had accepted the proposed reassignments requested by the king, and the former Grand Maester Pycelle was now teaching at the Citadel.

As the aged man opened the door, he smiled warmly at Brienne. “Ser Brienne. Come in.”

_Ser Brienne._

It had been Jaime’s first act as king. The day after the coronation, Arya had come running into the yards as Brienne and Pod prepared to spar.

“Brienne! You have to come to the throne quickly.”

The urgency in Arya’s tone had worried Brienne. Without questioning the girl, she moved quickly inside. The castle was quieter than usual, which only served to heighten Brienne’s fear. They moved quickly down the long hallway and towards the throne room. Brienne could hear Pod at her heels as Arya led the way.

As she pushed through the throne room doors, Brienne’s breath caught in her throat. The throne room was as full as it had been the day prior for Jaime’s coronation. Unlike the day prior when the throne room housed mostly nobility and members of court, today the room was packed with soldiers.

Men who Brienne knew from the Stormlands, the West, and the Riverlands were crammed tightly into the hall. At the front of the room, the small council stood to the left and the Kingsguard to the right.

Jaime stood by the stairs leading up to the throne with a wide smile on his face and Widow’s Wail strapped to his hip. He had found Oathkeeper’s twin blade not long after Cersei’s death.

At her entry, all eyes landed on Brienne. She felt her cheeks flame in embarrassment.

_Gods. Has Arya played a jape on me and I’m interrupting some important meeting?_

Glancing to the young girl at her side, Arya smirked and ran to the front of the room beside her mother. As she followed Arya’s movement with her eyes, Brienne slowly looked to Jaime in confusion.

Jaime smiled and raised a brow. “Lady Brienne. You’re needed up here.”

Slowly making her way forward, Brienne felt the eyes of those gathered following her. The men smiled and bowed as she passed. Suddenly, Brienne felt quite underdressed.

She was in one of the newer outfits that Catelyn and Genna had made for her. A pair of plain tan breeches and a blue jerkin. At her hip, Oathkeeper was strapped around her waist.

When she came to stand before Jaime, Brienne’s brows furrowed, and she spoke in a whisper. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize there was a meeting that I was meant to attend.”

Jaime smiled and bit back a laugh. His voice was a returning whisper for her ears only. “Now you and I both know that you would not have shown up in front of all these people had I told you in advance of your knighting.”

Speaking for all those in attendance to hear, Jaime spoke loudly. “Lady Brienne, kneel.”

Unsheathing his sword, the twin blade to her own, Jaime raised a brow when Brienne did not move. Her voice had come out quiet and confused. “I… I’m a woman. I can’t be a knight.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed as he feigned shock. Leaning in for her ears only, Jaime teased. “I’m _quite_ aware that you’re a woman, but I do thank you for only now answering my most idiotic question from years ago.”

Leaning back, Jaime removed any jest from his tone as he looked over his shoulder to Ser Brynden. “Ser Brynden. Does it say anywhere that a woman cannot be a knight?”

Ser Brynden smiled widely and shook his head in refute. “No, your Grace. An antiquated tradition.”

Jaime turned his head back slowly to Brienne; a small smirk at his lips. “Huh. Ser Addam, as a knight yourself _and_ Master of Laws…” Jaime took pause to raise a teasing brow at Catelyn before continuing. “Can I knight this woman?”

Addam looked to Catelyn and winked before beaming at Jaime. “Yes, your Grace. A knight or a king may knight anyone deemed worthy.”

Jaime smiled wider at Brienne. “Well that is awfully convenient that I am both. Ser Brent…”

At the mention of Brent, Brienne’s eyes went wide in shock. She thought that he had departed the day prior with the rest of the Tarth contingent. Following Jaime’s eyes to just over her right shoulder, Brienne smiled at the sight of Ser Brent standing beside the Kingsguard.

Jaime continued as Brent nodded and smiled at Brienne. “Do you believe your Evenstar is worthy of knighthood?”

Stepping forward confidently, Brent tilted up his chin and smiled. “She served as Rainbow Guard for Renly Baratheon after winning the melee at Bitterbridge. She served as sworn sword to your Hand, Lady Catelyn Stark. Kept her and her kin safe before marching north to help reclaim House Stark’s ancestral home. She singlehandedly felled thirteen men in defense of Lady Sansa Stark. She slew the false king, Stannis Baratheon. She beat the shit out of the Hound…”

At mention of the Hound, the crowd cheered teasingly as Sandor huffed a laugh and muttered to himself. He had been afforded his place on the Kinsguard back; even if he still refused his knighting.

Brent dropped any mirth from his tone as he continued. “She avenged her father and Tarth by killing the Mountain. Aye. I would say she is more than worthy, your Grace. What does the rest of Tarth say?”

A loud shout of approval from the Tarth soldiers caught Brienne by surprise. She had not noticed them all standing in the raised gallery to the left-hand side of the room. At the recognition from her men, Brienne felt tears at the back of her eyes.

Ser Addam spoke seriously at Catelyn’s side. “The West would agree, your Grace.” With Addam’s words, the West cheered loudly at Brienne’s back. As Brent and Addam had, Ser Brynden spoke loudly from behind Jaime. “The Riverlands would agree, your Grace.”

Another loud cheer erupted behind Brienne as the men from the Riverlands shouted in agreement. As Brienne stood dumbfounded at the front of the throne room, Jaime smiled warmly at her.

“Well, Lady Brienne, do you want to be a knight? You already are in every way except title. Kneel.”

Brienne had never imagined a moment such as this. For much of her life, Brienne had accepted that she would be little more than the gods great jape. Too mannish to be a woman. Too womanly to be a knight.

Having earned the respect of the soldiers meant the world to Brienne, but hearing them back her for such an honor was overwhelming. A small voice in the back of Brienne’s mind, a voice that sounded like Septa Roelle, laughed and reminded her what she was.

_‘It’s as big a jape as you are. Like the boys at the ball. Like the men betting on your maidenhead.’_

Ignoring Septa Roelle’s mocking voice, Brienne swallowed thickly and dropped to a knee. These men were not liars. These men were not the miserable shits at the ball. They weren’t the cruel men like Hyle at Renly’s camp. They were her peers and friends. The man before her was her husband and best friend.

Glancing up through her lashes at Jaime, she saw his eyes shining with pride as he touched his blade to her shoulder. An incredible silence fell over the hall.

“In the name of the warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the mother, I charge you to defend the innocent. Arise, Brienne Lannister of Tarth, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms.”

As Brienne stood, everything seemed to fade away. Distantly, she heard the soldiers erupt into a chorus of cheers and clapping. She heard the call of her knew title at her back.

“Ser Brienne!”

All she could see was Jaime. It was as though they were alone in the room. Were it not for Catelyn rushing over to pull Brienne into a tight hug, she might have forgotten where she was entirely. It seemed that Catelyn’s presence snapped Jaime out of a trance as well. He blinked as if shaken away before glancing around the hall and smiling widely.

After Catelyn released Brienne, the men were surrounding her and congratulating her. Knights as grand as the Blackfish clapped her on the shoulder and smiled. Then Brienne felt Brent’s hand on her shoulder.

“My Evenstar. Well-earned if not late. Tarth knows no greater knight. Ser Duncan would be proud. Your father would be prouder.”

The sound of Grand Maester Luwin’s voice shook Brienne from the memory. “What ails you? You look a bit peaked. Have a seat.”

As if coming back to the present, Brienne shook her head and sat where instructed. “I’ve not been feeling well for a few weeks. I’m often queasy and tired. Most foods are not appealing. I think it might be stress. My moonblood is quite late as well. Three weeks to be exact.”

Luwin hummed and appraised her. “Have you and the king been laying together regularly?”

The question sent a flush to Brienne’s cheeks and she could do little more than nod in confirmation. With a knowing smile, Luwin nodded.

“Would you be agreeable to a quick exam? I can call for a midwife if you’re more comfortable.”

Brienne trusted Maester Luwin. He was a kind man and had delivered all of Lady Stark’s children. Consenting to the exam, Brienne did as instructed. She removed her breeches and smallclothes before laying on the exam table. 

True to his words, Luwin’s exam was quick. As Brienne sat upright, the maester stood before her and smiled. “My queen, congratulations. You carry the heir to the iron throne.”

Brienne felt in a daze at the words. She nodded mutely before thanking Luwin and taking leave. Wandering through the Keep, Brienne made her way towards her room.

It seemed strange to Brienne. Of course, they had been trying for a babe, but it seemed as untouchable as knighthood had. Now that Grand Maester Luwin confirmed it, Brienne hardly knew what to think. She was happy, but shocked.

It was nearly lunch and Brienne thought it best to freshen up before meeting with Jaime. The sound of her footsteps echoed off the walls and filled her blank mind. Turning down the hallway, Brienne saw two of the Kingsguard outside, indicating to Brienne that Jaime was in the room.

As she approached, the men smiled at her and nodded in unison. “Ser Brienne.”

_Gods. I will never grow tired of hearing that title. Much better than ‘queen’._

Brienne smiled warmly at the men. “Ser Boros. Ser Balon.”

Moving into the room, Brienne saw Jaime on the balcony. He appeared to be agonizing over a piece of paper in his hand as she approached.

Hearing her footsteps, Jaime sprang to his feet and smiled. “My queen wench.”

_Seven help me._

Brienne could see an underlying unease behind his smile. “Is everything alright?”

They each took a seat as a momentary silence hung over them. Jaime bit his lip and played with the missive in his hand. Passing the parchment to Brienne, Jaime sat quietly as her eyes scanned the missive. The letter was from Jon providing Catelyn an update on things at Winterfell. Brienne was pleased to hear how well things were going in the North, although a bit surprised to read about wildings moving south of the Wall.

Then Brienne got to the bottom of the missive and her eyes went wide. “Gods. He’s alive.”


	2. “You have my word”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn receives word from Jon. Despite her excitement, Catelyn realizes the larger impact.

Catelyn felt her lips tug into a wide smile. Not an hour earlier, word arrived from Jon containing an update on the North. She recalled the information contained within the missive; information that caused her heart to soar.

_Lady Stark,_

_We’ve made great progress with the Northern vassals as you requested. All vassals have sworn fealty to your House again and we’ve resolved some minor disputes._

_Theon and I have been training new recruits for the army to build it strong again. I reckon that by the time Lord Rickon is ready to rule, he will have a strong army eager to serve their lord._

_Per our last correspondence, I’ve treated with Tormund Giantsbane; the leader of the Wildlings. I was able to see his freedom secured by Ser Davos who had retreated to the Wall upon witnessing Stannis’ murder of Shireen Baratheon._

_Ser Davos, some of our men, and Tormund, took the ships left at dock by Stannis to find and save as many Wildlings as they could from Hardhome. They saved thousands, but they were set upon by the army of the dead._

_The threat to the North is very real, my lady. In return for lands at the Dreadfort, Tormund and his people will pledge to fight for your House. They do not believe in bending the knee to any man, but I’ve asked Tormund to journey south to meet with King Jaime._

_Tormund can relay information about the threat we all face and offer insight on the enemy. He will be traveling south with Ser Davos, who knows Lady Brienne. I’ve shared with Ser Davos all that has tanspired, and he wishes to swear fealty to the crown._

_On return to the Wall from Hardhome, Ser Davos came across some unlikely arrivals. It’s wonderful news, my lady. Lord Bran lives and is well. Ser Davos will escort Lord Bran south with some of our men, and Tormund. He will be well-protected. You have my word._

_Jon_

Catelyn had choked back a sob at news that Bran lived. It gave her closure she had so desperately needed. With Bran having afforded little context to Rickon as to why he had to go North, Catelyn feared another son dead. When near a year had passed with no word of Bran, Catelyn assumed her fears true.

It was over a year ago that Jon first spoke of the horrors north of the Wall. If what he said was true, Catelyn knew there was no way that a cripple boy could survive dead things and warring wildlings.

_Wildlings. Gods help us. I don’t know about this._

Jon had been insistent in prior letters that allowing the Wildlings to take lands in the North would only aid their kingdom. From his time with the Night’s Watch, Jon insisted that they were fierce fighters and incredibly loyal once they deemed someone worthy of their respect.

It seemed to Catelyn that these Wildlings had come to respect Jon. She trusted Jon on the matter and would allow him to broker peace with their leader, Tormund.

After having read the missive, Catelyn clutched it to her chest and sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Seven. At her side, Jaime had leaned over and teased her.

“Is that another love letter about me? We’ve been through this. I’m spoken for now.”

Catelyn’s mood could not be brought down by Jaime’s ridiculousness. Turning to him, she had smiled and handed him the parchment. She watched shock line Jaime’s face as he read the missive. It was the one thing between them that Catelyn still struggled with. What Jaime had done to Bran.

Jaime’s face paled slightly. A slight unease set into his eyes as he swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Good. I’m glad of it. Can I show this to Brienne? She’ll be happy to know you have another child returning home.”

Catelyn nodded and watched as Jaime left the small council. There were trivial matters remaining that hardly required his attention, and Catelyn knew that Jaime likely wanted to speak with Brienne about the news.

Knowing Jaime as she did now, Catelyn could read him easily. In the past, Jaime hid behind snarky comments and cruel remarks when a subject troubled him. She had not recognized the look in the pen at Robb’s camp when they briefly spoke of Bran, but she understood it now. Guilt.

After the council ended, Catelyn made her way to the hall for lunch. She was giddy with the prospect of seeing Bran in a moon turn. The hall was fairly empty except for her children, other council members, and two of the Kingsguard; the Hound and Ser Boros.

“Arya. Rickon. I have wonderful news. Bran is alive and well. He will be here in a moon turn.”

Excitement flashed in their eyes as the pair began to rapid-fire questions at Catelyn. She hardly knew the answers to much of what they asked, but it gladdened Catelyn to see their enthusiasm for word of Bran’s return. Before the meal ended, Arya looked up hopefully at Catelyn.

“Will you come to the yards? I’m going to spar Ser Jaime! He’s been training me more than usual since Brienne hasn’t been feeling well.”

At Arya’s words, Catelyn stilled. The spoon in her hand took pause on its journey to her mouth. Catelyn looked to Arya with knitted brows.

“It’s King Jaime, Arya. What’s wrong with Brienne? I’ve not heard anything.”

Arya shrugged and played with the knife in her hand. “Not sure. I think she was going to see Maester Luwin. She thinks she’s getting sick. Perhaps he’ll give her some medicine.”

Shaking her head slightly, Catelyn forced a smile and met Arya’s excited eyes. “Of course. I’ll come down and watch, but by the gods, Arya, will you please at least practice at some sewing on the morrow?”

With an exaggerated eyeroll, Arya sighed and jabbed at the food on her plate. “I prefer using only the needle at my hip. Ser Jaime says…”

“I am your mother. I hardly care what the bothersome man says.”

_Gods be good. This child will be the death of me. I’m not asking her to put down the sword, only to try at a proper needle._

“King Jaime. Isn’t that what you just said? Brienne wasn’t forced to sew at my age.”

Catelyn chuckled and shook her head. “She certainly was. I saw some of her handiwork on Tarth. Awful really, the poor thing. Arya, I’m not saying that you can’t train. I’m glad you are enjoying it. I’m only asking you to try at things that a match may expect of you some day.”

“I don’t want a match and I don’t want to be a lady. I wish to be a great knight like Ser Brienne.” Arya’s chest began to swell with pride at the mention of Brienne.

It was difficult for Catelyn to begrudge her daughter’s dream of knighthood. Brienne had opened the door to a world of possibility for girl’s like Arya. In reality, Brienne had wanted many of the things that Arya so eagerly rejected.

“I think that you would make a fine knight, Arya. I would be very proud of you, but I would ask that you talk to Brienne. You may be surprised to find that it is possible to be both a knight and a wife. Brienne wanted to be both, and she is. You don’t need to choose between love and knighthood.”

With a heavy sigh, Arya nodded in consent. When they finished eating, Catelyn set off to find Brienne. She was concerned at Arya’s remark that Brienne was unwell.

Knowing Brienne as she did, Catelyn assumed the young woman likely wasn’t taking enough rest. Catelyn saw how hard Brienne was training in the mornings, and how much time she spent with the orphans of King’s Landing.

Of course, Jaime also gave her little rest. They sparred in the evenings before supper, and they sparred of an entirely different variety at night. Catelyn was pleased to know how happy the king and queen were, but she had immediately set to the task of seeing her room reassigned far enough away from theirs. She had little desire to hear just how happy they were night after night.

_Gods. They make what Ned and I had look purely political. How do they find the energy?_

It took some effort, but Catelyn soon came upon Brienne in the yards. Brienne was sitting on the rock wall and watching as Jaime trained with Addam. The two knights were well-matched, and their movement betrayed a lifetime of familiarity sparring with one another.

Brienne’s face was slightly ashen as Catelyn approached. The small frown at Brienne’s lips worried Catelyn. When the Stark matriarch reached her side, their eyes met and Catelyn offered a warm smile.

“Hello, Brienne.”

“My lady. I am pleased to hear that Bran is alive and well. I’m eager to meet him.”

As always, Brienne’s tone was nothing but genuine, but Catelyn saw a flicker of something else in her eyes. Studying Brienne, Catelyn tilted her head curiously.

“Thank you. I’m glad of it as well. Something troubles you though.”

Brienne looked down at her feet as they dangled slightly off the ground. Her eyes flitted briefly to Jaime before turning to Catelyn.

“Jaime said he’ll oblige whatever form of punishment that Lord Bran sees fit; including offering his head. Do you think Bran will want that?”

Catelyn flinched at the words. Her eyes darted to Jaime before turning to Brienne. It was a thought that had not crossed her mind. As a mother, Catelyn was thrilled to hear that her son was alive. While she long accepted that she may never truly forgive Jaime for the act, Catelyn hardly wished for his head.

_Typical Jaime. He’ll do it to. It will only take a word from Bran._

“I’ve not seen my son since I left him unconscious in a bed at Winterfell. I hardly know how he’ll feel on the matter, but I promise you that I will council him on mercy. I’ve as much desire to see harm befall Jaime as you do.”

Brienne nodded, but Catelyn could see the worry still in the young woman’s eyes. “I understand, my lady.”

“Arya says you’re unwell. Is something wrong?”

Brienne’s eyes went wide at the question. She shook her head in refute. “No, not at all. I thought mayhap I was coming down with something. I’m feeling much better now. If you’ll excuse me, I need to tend to something inside.”

There was something in Brienne’s tone that worried Catelyn. She watched as Brienne retreated quickly to the castle. At Brienne’s unexpected departure, Jaime and Addam stopped sparring; a worried expression lined Jaime’s face.

“Wench! Where are you going!? You’re meant to lose to me next!”

Brienne was too far away though. With a glance to Jaime, Catelyn moved from the wall and after the young woman.

_Gods damnit. Those long legs will see her to the Wall before I can get inside._

Moving quickly, Catelyn entered the castle and looked in both directions. She saw Brienne turn around a corner down the righthand side and Catelyn moved to follow. Jogging to keep up, she saw Brienne make another turn to the left.

_Where is she going? The maester’s office?_

Moving quickly, Catelyn saw Brienne standing outside Grand Maester Luwin’s office. The older man let her into the room and shut the door behind them. Catelyn moved quickly and waited outside the door, hoping to speak with Brienne on the way out.

Muffled voices from inside were the only indication that Brienne had entered the room. Pacing the hallway, Catelyn worried at what could be plaguing Brienne to such an extent. When at last Brienne exited, she startled at seeing Catelyn leaning against the wall.

A nervous blush spread across Brienne’s cheeks as she stammered slightly. “Yes, my lady? Did you… did you need something?”

“Walk with me, Brienne.” Catelyn took Brienne by the arm and led her down the hallway. They walked almost aimlessly until they arrived at Catelyn’s room.

The Stark matriarch ushered Brienne inside and guided her to the balcony. “I am worried about you, Brienne. You took off rather quickly and your husband mistakenly thinks he had a chance at beating you today.”

Trying to keep the mood light, Catelyn gauged Brienne’s response. The young woman began to fidget with the hem of her shirt. It was obvious that she was hiding something.

_Arya said she was unwell. Thinking on it, she hasn’t eaten as much lately. She seems a bit paler than usual. I thought it was fatigue, but what if…_

“You’re pregnant.”

Catelyn’s words caught Brienne by surprise. The young knight’s jaw flapped several times before she found her words.

“You heard me speaking to Grand Maester Luwin?”

_Gods. What is going through that head of hers?_

“No, Brienne. I’m a woman and I’ve birthed children of my own. Considering what Arya told me and what I’ve observed of late, it was a guess. Are you not happy? I think this is wonderful.”

Catelyn smiled warmly at the young woman. She reached her hand towards Brienne, but she took pause when she saw Brienne’s chin quiver slightly.

“It won’t be so wonderful if the child is fatherless. Then he or she will just be saddled with me.”

“Brienne. Is this about Bran? I meant what I said. I will council Bran on the matter. He is young and likely angry, but Jaime is a good man. I’ll vouch for him.”

Brienne shook her head adamantly. “It won’t matter. Jaime is determined to honor whatever makes Barn the happiest. He feels it’s the only honorable thing to do. Please, don’t tell him. It would eat away at him. He would feel like no matter what, he was letting someone down. Don’t tell anyone.”

It hit Catelyn then why Brienne was so upset. She thought Bran’s arrival to be a death sentence for Jaime. She worried for her child growing up without a father. She likely worried of the babe being tied to the crown.

Moving from her seat, Catelyn wrapped her arms around Brienne’s head and shoulders. “I swear to you that it will be alright. Bran was always such a sweet boy. I can’t imagine a world where he would see someone else left without a father; even if that father was the man who shoved him from a window. I struggle to move past that myself, but you see how I care for your dolt husband now. Jaime is a good man and I will help Bran see that.”

Brienne’s eyes darted to Catelyn. “And if there isn’t? What if Jaime stands by his decision and offers his head? I tried desperately to talk him out of it. If he dies, this babe would be next in line. The crown is safe for no one; particularly a babe. People do horrible things for power and a babe will be too vulnerable to such threats. Will you help me lie? The babe can't be a Lannister if Jaime is dead. I don't want anyone trying to use my child for the crown. Please.”

Catelyn sighed and looked deep into Brienne’s eyes. She understood then that the young woman intended to pretend at dishonor if Jaime died. To name the babe another man’s, a bastard, only to keep the child safe.

_Typical, selfless Brienne. She’ll sully her honor to protect an innocent. She's so much more like Jaime than I realized._

“Brienne. Who will you say the babe belongs to? I know you. You may be willing to sully your own reputation to protect the babe from the crown, but you would never deny Jaime his child; even in death. He has never been able to claim a child.”

Brienne’s face fell. “I couldn’t do that to him. Will you help the babe abdicate then? Please.”

“It may not feel this way right now, but this is all for naught. As I said, I will council Bran and all will be well. That said, I swear to you that if by some ridiculous circumstance anything happens to Jaime, I’ll take the bloody crown myself if it means keeping you and the babe safe. I will not let any harm befall that little lion in your womb. You have my word.”


	3. “Death Marches for Us All”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran arrives at King's Landing and he has a lot to share.

A moon turn had passed since word from the North arrived. As if Bran’s looming arrival didn’t weigh heavy enough on Jaime’s mind, another missive had been dropped on the Keep that caused a sea of emotions to swirl inside Jaime.

Varys had landed at Sunspear after chartering a ship from Meereen. He had little coin left and could only offer the captain enough to see him safely to Dorne.

The missive was cryptic, but Varys indicated that the young Targaryen was not as he expected. He indicated that something happened while across the sea that _changed_ her. He would find passage to King’s Landing and tell them of it in person.

_Fucking ravens. I should just have them all shot down on sight._

Crouching at Brienne’s side, Jaime rubbed her back as she vomited for a second time into the chamber pot.

_Gods. She’s more nervous about this than I am._

An attendant had just informed them that the contingent from the North stood waiting in the throne room. Wishing to afford Catelyn privacy to reunite with her son, Jaime remained behind with Brienne and indicated they would be down shortly.

“Can I get you some water? You look as deathly as the Mountain, wench.”

Jaime played at jest, but he was quite worried for Brienne. Over the past fortnight, Brienne fought bouts of sickness. She wasn’t eating as much, and she was taking an unusual amount of rest.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” Brienne wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. The color had yet to return to her cheeks and Jaime thought that a visit to the maester was no longer avoidable.

“I’m taking you to Grand Maester Luwin later. This has been going on for too long. You’re always so damn stubborn.”

A small laugh pushed passed Brienne’s lips. “I’ve seen him. He said that I’m fine. Truly, I should be better any day now.”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime righted himself. He ran his hand through his hair and grimaced slightly before speaking.

“Would you rather stay here and take rest?”

“No! I’m coming with you. I wish to see Lord Bran.”

Brienne stood quickly; a slight sway to her movement. Steadying her, Jaime rolled his eyes before guiding her towards the door.

“Alright. Lets go see Lord Bran. Remember me fondly, wench.”

Jaime could feel Brienne tense as his hand continued to grip her arm. Glancing at her, Jaime considered her position in the situation. It had been the source of tension between them for weeks.

_If the situation was reversed, I would be too selfish to let Brienne offer her head. Not that she would ever do something so vile as I did to Bran._

For the past moon turn, Brienne clung to Jaime at night as though he may drift away and never return. She was young still and of an age within reason to build a family with another man. The thought made Jaime sick with jealousy, but he felt that he must atone for his sins as Cersei had.

Making their way towards the throne room, Jaime stole another glance at Brienne. Her face was paler than usual, and Jaime’s worry deepened.

_I don’t care what Luwin said. I’m taking her to see him again after this. Even if Bran wants me head, I need to leave this world know she’ll be alright._

They stepped into the throne room and Jaime’s brows rose in surprise. Only Bran and Catelyn awaited them despite Jaime’s expectation to find Wildings and Ser Davos accompanying the young man. Catelyn was beaming as she kneeled by Bran’s wheelchair.

_His wheelchair. Seven hells. He deserves more than my head._

The sight of Catelyn overcome with joy warmed Jaime’s heart. Despite all that his House had done to hers, Catelyn had shown him kindness and compassion. She offered Cersei a quick and respectful death. She consoled Jaime as he mourned the very woman with whom his twisted relationship drove him to push Catelyn’s son from a window.

_Catelyn deserves to have her children alive and well. I deserve nothing._

At their approach, Jaime’s eyes looked to Bran. Jaime could feel his heart beating wildly with every step that he took. He cursed under his breath as he appraised the broken boy before him.

“Lord Bran. I’m glad to see you’re alive and well.”

_Fuck. He clearly isn’t well. That was stupid._

The smallest hint of a smile tugged at Bran’s lips. “Forgive me for not kneeling, your Grace.”

It felt as though the air left the room at Bran’s words. Jaime groaned inwardly and felt heat rising at the back of his neck. He wished to hand the boy his blade and be done with it.

“Yes, about that. I was quite hope we might speak on the matter. I mean to apologize for…”

“That won’t be necessary.” Bran’s words were emotionless as he continued to stare into Jaime’s eyes. It was as though he could see into the depths of Jaime’s soul and was plucking out bits of information.

Jaime blinked rapidly and glanced to Catelyn who remained crouched at Bran’s side. “Um, it is rather important. Mayhap you don’t remember, but I was the one who…”

“I remember. It was one of many things you’ve done for love. My favorite act however, was the last thing you _nearly_ did for love. Were it not for my mother’s hands, you would have done it.”

Jaime felt himself pale at the words. He looked to Catelyn who stared at Bran in shock. As her eyes drifted up to meet Jaime, she shook her head and mouthed the barely discernable words.

“I said nothing.”

After Cersei died, Catelyn swore to Jaime that she would not tell a soul of what Jaime nearly did in Cersei’s chambers. She did not want anyone to accuse Jaime of trying to commit kinslaying.

Bran offered another small smile at Jaime before speaking again. “We have much to discuss, your Grace.”

“Yes, that is rather my point. I’ll gladly accept any punishment you deem fit; even my…”

“As I said, that won’t be necessary. I don’t need your head. You’ve given a hand for the one that pushed me. I’ve given my legs for the wings I needed. Now, I do believe that it would be best to continue this conversation elsewhere.”

The words were strange, and Jaime hardly knew what to make of them. Glancing at Catelyn, Jaime noted the confusion lining her features as well.

With a heavy sigh Catelyn met Jaime’s eyes. “I’ve asked Ser Davos and the Wildlings to return later. Bran said that he needed to speak with the three of us privately.”

_This is hardly what I expected, but who am I to tell the boy ‘no’._

“Very well. Lord Bran, this is…”

A wide smile tugged at Bran’s lips as his eyes shifted to Brienne. Interrupting Jaime’s introduction, Bran spoke with warmth in his voice. “Ser Brienne. How very lucky for my mother to have met you at Renly’s camp. Eve luckier still for Ser Jaime.”

Shocked looks were exchanged between Jaime, Catelyn, and Brienne. With an uncertain lilt to her voice, Catelyn peered down at Bran. “I see Jon has told you quite a lot.”

“Anything he told me was hardly necessary. I’ll explain in due course.” Bran glanced to Jaime and smirked before continuing. His voice took on a teasing lilt. “Ser Jaime, if you would be so kind. Please, give me a push.”

_Seven hells. It’s to be mental torture for my death then._

Jaime scratched the back of his head nervously before moving behind Bran and pushing his wheelchair towards the study. At his side, Catelyn looks as shocked by it all as Jaime felt.

The walk to the study was mercifully short and Jaime thanked the Seven for it. He wished for this meeting to end and it had yet to begin.

Moving inside, Jaime wheeled Bran to the corner table. As the women took their seats, Jaime shut the door and joined them. He sat at the table opposite Bran and beside Brienne.

It wasn’t until Brienne put a steadying hand on Jaime’s leg that he realized he had been bouncing it nervously while awaiting the young man’s next words.

“There is much that I need to explain to you all, but first I need you to understand why I had to go north of the Wall. There are things in our world that will cause you even greater disbelief than what Jon speaks of. The reason that I hold no animosity towards Ser Jaime for his actions is because I needed to fall. I needed to lose my ability to walk so that I could gain my ability to fly. My ability to see.”

Jaime’s mind went blank at the words. It made little sense and he glanced desperately at Catelyn and Brienne for some indication of what to do. Beside Bran, Catelyn’s brows furrowed, and she shook her head.

With a deep sigh, Catelyn stood from her chair. “I need to get Grand Maester Luwin. He insisted that you were well at Winterfell, but you are not. Hopefully he can treat whatever is ailing you mentally.”

_I’ve done more than break him physically. This is my fault. He’s all fucked in the head._

Bran looked out the window; a wistful smile on his face. He called out calmly as Catelyn retreated to the door.

“Wait for me little Cat. Wait for me… and I’ll come back to you.”

Something in Bran’s words caused Catelyn to take pause. She slowly turned and looked to Bran; her eyes wide in shock and slowly misting with tears.

“What did you say? Did Uncle Brynden talk to you before I arrived in the throne room?”

The Stark matriarch walked slowly to Bran; her eyes never once leaving him. Without looking to his mother, the young man spoke at a volume just above a whisper.

“He called out for you when he died. His name was on your tongue during whispered prayers on his deathbed. You’ve prayed a lot too. You’ve prayed a lot since father went south. I heard you whisper to me in prayer at the godswood when Jon’s letter arrived a moon turn ago. You asked my forgiveness. I promise you mother, there is nothing to forgive.”

Catelyn gasped and slumped into her chair. Her face was as pale as Brienne’s had looked earlier. A shaky hand reached out for Bran’s arm as though ensuring he was real.

“How did you hear that? I barley spoke it loud enough for my own ears?”

Bran looked to Brienne and smiled. “I heard it quite clearly. It was after you spoke with Brienne and made your promise. You begged me to forgive you for coming to care for the man who crippled your son. You asked me to forgive you when you wouldn’t allow me to demand his head. You refused to see another child grow up without a father.”

Jaime’s eyes darted between the two women who looked to Bran in shock.

_What? What is he talking about? Can I get a fucking translator please?_

Something shifted in the room as Brienne stammered at his side. Her breathing seemed to shallow as a heavy silence fell over the room. Catelyn’s head snapped to Brienne.

“I swear to you Brienne. I told no one.”

Jaime couldn’t take the cryptic words any longer. With his frustration growing, Jaime bit his lip before calming himself. “Told no one what?”

Brienne’s lips parted several times but failed to find the words before she composed herself. Swallowing thickly, Brienne met Jaime’s eyes. He could see the apology forming before the words came out.

“I lied to you. I’m very sorry, but I didn’t want to burden you with it all. You found out about Bran the day that I found out that… I’m with child.”

The air felt left the room the moment Brienne confessed to the truth of her ailment. Placing a steadying hand on the table, Jaime’s eyes dropped to Brienne’s stomach. There was no outward sign of a babe, but Jaime could see nothing but their future.

_I’m going to be a father. A true father. A babe that I can love and claim openly._

“Wench. We have a cub in there?” Jaime’s fingers tentatively reached out for Brienne’s stomach as though he could feel the strength of their cub’s heartbeat within.

“It would seem so. I’m very sorry that I didn’t tell you. It’s just that…”

Before Brienne could finish, Jaime’s lips crashed into hers. He had never felt such joy before, and he couldn’t stop his brain form envisioning all that he could do with their child.

_I’ll teach the babe to ride, swing a sword, and swim. Brienne should teach the child to read. I’m shit at that. Also, the bow and arrow. She could hit the Wall from here._

Breaking the kiss, Jaime’s mind continued swirling with a maddening array of thoughts.

“We’re so behind, wench! We need a nursery. Mayhap we can get a mini wooden sword instead of those awful rattles!”

Brienne’s brows furrowed as he spoke. She shook her head in confusion at the idea. “A mini sword?”

Undeterred, Jaime kept rambling; seemingly unaware of Brienne’s confusion. “Oh, and we need proper clothing for the babe. It gets cool at night, and I always thought it strange to leave a babe so exposed to the breeze in naught but a nappy and blanket!”

“Jaime…” Brienne tried to stop his tangent, but it was like trying to stop a spooked horse.

“Oh, the nappies. Gods how am I supposed to change the bloody nappies with this useless hunk of metal on my wrist!? I need a device with pinchers or something.”

Catelyn’s barely muffled laughter filled the space as Brienne continued trying to get Jaime’s attention. Her hand came to his forearm as her head shook in refute.

“Don’t forget proper swaddling.” Bran’s monotone voice cut through the space between them.

_Of course! That. We need that._

Jaime snapped his fingers and pointed at Bran. “Yes, Brandon! Thank you. Brienne, the swaddling! Can we get one stitched with Ser Duncan’s sigil on it!?”

“Mayhap a lion laying under the shooting star of Duncan’s sigil.” Again, Bran’s words only served to encourage Jaime’s rambling. Jaime was too excited to pick up on the teasing lilt in Bran’s tone.

“Oh gods! Yes! I’ll find a seamstress, Brienne. We need a lot of swaddles. Every babe that ever came into court ended up spitting up all over the place. I can’t say I blame them. I felt the same way about having to be there.”

“Jaime!” Brienne’s protest finally broke through his ramblings. The room came back into focus as he appraised the expression on her face.

“Yes, we’ll deal with all of _that_. I think there might be more things to discuss first. Mayhap we do that.”

Jaime glanced across the table to the Starks. Catelyn was biting back laughter as Bran smirked at him.

“Right, sorry. You were saying.”

Bran nodded and glanced to his mother. “I know it seems difficult to understand, but I can see things now. I can see into the past. I can see what is happening now. I can see glimpses of things that may come to pass. I’m no longer Brandon Stark. I’m the three-eyed-raven. I had to go north of the wall to become that.”

_The what now? He’s a raven? Thank the gods I didn’t order the bloody things shot down. I’d have nearly killed him twice over._

Jaime glanced hesitantly to Catelyn. The confusion was back on her face as she stared at Bran.

“Bran, you’re my son. I don’t know what to make of these things you’re saying, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are Brandon Stark of Winterfell.”

Shaking his head, Bran smiled softly at his mother. “I’m not that little boy anymore just as he...” Inclining his head towards Jaime, Bran continued. “…isn’t _that_ man anymore. I’ve become what I was destined to be. It’s the role that I must play for what is to come. The greatest threat isn’t the dragon queen looking to cross the sea. It isn’t betrayal sitting quietly in the Vale. It is death. _Aegon_ speaks the truth. Death marches for us all.”


	4. "I should offer my head again"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran share more information with their group and the matter of the crown is raised.

Catelyn struggled to process the words as Bran spoke of wights, White Walkers, and the Night King. She watched the reactions of Jaime and Brienne; their faces mirroring her own disbelief. The room was starting to spin from the onslaught of information, but one comment that Bran made gnawed at her.

_‘Aegon speaks the truth.’ Who is Aegon? No one named Aegon has spoken a word to me._

When Bran was done with it all, Catelyn blinked as if coming out of a trance. She took a steadying breath and met Bran’s eyes.

“I don’t understand much of this. I certainly don’t understand this _thing_ you’ve become. You said something that confuses me though. I’ve not spoken to anyone named Aegon. I thought that Tormund fellow led the Wildlings. Is there an Aegon among them? That’s an unusual name for a Wildling. It’s rather Targaryen.”

A knowing smile tugged at Bran’s lips.

“When you spoke to Brienne, she asked for your help. You recall why?”

Catelyn’s eyes darted to Brienne. A slight panic took hold of the young woman, and Catelyn wished for little more to be spoken on the subject. She vividly recalled Brienne’s desperation and willingness to name her child a bastard to avoid the crown.

Answering in a volume only for Bran’s ears, Catelyn spoke in a warning tone.

“Yes. Brandon, Speak no further on that.”

An understanding nod from Bran indicated that the message was received. “It was not the first time that such a selfless act of its variety occurred in Westeros. Jon is not a bastard. Aunt Lyanna was never kidnapped; she went willingly. She and Prince Rhaegar were in love. The Citadel has record of his annulment and subsequent marriage to Lyanna. Robert’s Rebellion was built on a lie. Father had to lie to protect Jon. Jon’s name is Aegon Targaryen.”

The room seemed to sway beneath Catelyn’s feet as she bolted from her chair. Her eyes grew hot with tears and she shook her head.

“Stop it. Bran, now you go too far.”

“Father’s fidelity was as true as Ser Jaime’s. He was there when Aunt Lyanna died on the birthing bed. She begged him to protect her son. I can assure you, he did not do it to hurt you.”

_But he did hurt me._

Bran’s eyes looked meaningfully between Brienne and Catelyn as if trying to get them to understand. “Aunt Lyanna _also_ understood that the crown was dangerous for a babe; particular a trueborn son of Rhaegar given Robert started a war for her.”

At Brienne’s side, Jaime’s jaw slackened at Bran’s declaration of Jon’s heritage.

“He’s the heir to the throne. This… this is perfect.”

“This is not perfect!” Catelyn snapped. She began to pace the room frantically. It felt as though Catelyn had been chucked into stormy seas without a raft to cling to. She could feel the depths of the ocean trying to pull her below the waves cresting over her head.

_Ned lied to me about Jon. Of course, he had to, but why couldn’t he trust me with the information? I would have done anything to protect such a truth. Gods… Jon. All that I did and didn’t do for him. I’m angry at Ned. I’m angry at me._

Burying her face in her hands, Catelyn’s fingers rubbed at her forehead. Jaime’s voice broke through her swirling thoughts and warring emotions.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that it was a perfect _situation_ for you. I only meant the crown bit. Can we at least have Jon come here and speak with us?”

“Have you told Jon?” At Brienne’s question, Catelyn lifted her head. She looked to Bran who sat impassively in his wheelchair.

“No. It isn’t time, and he has a different role to play. He doesn’t want the crown just as he never wanted Winterfell.”

Jaime guffawed from across the table. “I don’t want the crown either! Why am I stuck with it? It is his by right!”

Bran shook his head and held Jaime’s baffled stare. “Consider _this_ your penance then. You are right where you need to be. When the time comes, you will make the correct decision. Jon has a different role to play in what lies ahead.”

Sitting back down, Catelyn sighed. The room had never felt smaller as she struggled to rise above the swelling emotions within. Composing herself, she looked to the table and spoke calmly.

“Jaime has the right of it. The crown is Jon’s by blood. I need to send word for him to come to King’s Landing.”

Bran held firm in his position on the matter. His voice sounded wise beyond his years. “Why should one Targaryen’s blood boast greater claim than the next?”

Catelyn huffed a small laugh and looked to Bran. “It matters very much when a woman in possession of dragons intends to come west and claim the throne on blood right alone.”

A knowing smile spread across Bran’s face. “Yes, Daenerys’ claim is based on blood. I find that a bit amusing considering Aegon the Conqueror claimed Westeros by fire; not blood or birthright. Robert defeated House Targaryen to win the crown, just as Aegon conquered Westeros to unify it. It should matter little. Even if Westeros cared so much about Targaryen bloodlines, don’t you think her claim will appear weak given the presence of others with Targaryen blood?”

Jaime interjected form cross the table. His fingers tapped the wood in frustration as he spoke. “All the more reason to give Jon the crown! If this girl has half a brain about her, she should understand that as Rhaegar’s son, Jon has greater claim. I don’t want Brienne and our babe in the path of a madwoman.”

Bran shrugged. “If you wish to assign claim on Targaryen blood and birthright alone, it shouldn’t be Daenerys or Jon. Both she and Jon are be descendants of Daeron the Falseborn. It should be a Blackfyre, technically.”

“A Blackyfre? What are you on about, Bran?” Catelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. It was all so much to take in and she needed a break from the stifling room.

“King Aegon IV legitimized his bastards. House Blackfyre has just as much, if not stronger, claim. Do you know the truth of the Blackfyre Rebellion? King Aegon was to disinherit his son, Daeron. That was why he legitimized his Great bastards and common bastards. It was rumored this his wife, Naerys, had an affair with their other brother, Aemon. His suspicions were correct. Daeron was not his. Rule should have passed to his eldest, legitimized son, Daemon Blackfyre. He was the next oldest male heir.”

Jaime chuckled beside Brienne. “House Blackfyre is extinct. Mayhap you skipped over the Blackfyre Rebellions in your soar through history.”

“Is the line extinct? Odd. I thought your wife still alive.” Bran’s eyes narrowed in feigned curiosity at Brienne.

Catelyn looked up slowly at Brienne. The young woman shifted uncomfortably in her seat beside Jaime; her eyes darting frantically to those amassed around the table.

“I’m a Tarth.”

“Yes, you are of the Tarth _line_. You said to my mother once that House Tarth dates back to the First Men, though like much of the south, the line has Andal and Valyrian influence. ‘ _Quite mess_ y.’ I believe those were your words.”

Bran looked to Brienne with a hint of amusement setting into his features. Before Brienne could summon a response, he continued.

“Like House Tarth’s, your mother’s line boasts a rich history. Your mother is of the female Blackfyre line. House Blackfyre is only extinct because the name died with its last male, just as the Tarth name is now extinct.”

Catelyn gasped at Bran’s words. Her eyes flashed to Brienne in sympathy for Bran’s cold delivery of the harsh reality. Brienne flinched at the words and hung her head.

It was an inevitable fate once Selwyn lost Galladon, but it hardly needed expressing to the young woman whose emotional wounds were still fresh. At Brienne’s side, Jaime sighed before placing a sympathetic arm around Brienne’s shoulders. 

It took everything in Catelyn to not curse the Seven for it all. The young woman before her deserved to have her father at her side as much as her own children deserved to have Ned at theirs. Bran broke the temporary silence yet again.

“The Blackfyre name is gone, but not the line. Ser Brienne, just as you keep your father’s line going, Daemon Blackfyre’s line is still very much alive. Targaryen blood. _Legitimized_ Targaryen blood. Of course, you’re hardly the only Blackfyre left just as you’re hardly the only descendent of Ser Duncan still living. The point is, why should Daenerys’ claim be greater than any other Targaryen? Why should she have any claim when her House lost the crown the same way that Aegon the Conqueror won it? What matters now, is _who_ won the crown. That would be Ser Jaime.”

Jaime snorted and crossed his arms like a petulant child. “I would hardly use the term ‘won’ to describe such an unfortunate series of events.”

The information was to the point of dizzying, and Catelyn could not stomach any more. Thinking on it, Catelyn could see Bran’s point.

Making a claim on bloodline when the bloodline in question had _lost_ the crown by conquest seemed absurd. Even still, the very bloodline at the epicenter of their conversation had, to Brienne’s words, rather messy lines of succession.

_Gods. Brienne has greater claim than the Targaryen girl across the sea and Bran says she isn’t the only one left. What is the point of my search for an heir? Mayhap we can just name someone best for the kingdoms. Mayhap it should be Jaime. They’ll likely kill me for even thinking it._

Catelyn felt an overwhelming urge to get out of the room. She needed to stretch her legs and work it all out.

_Dead things moving south. Dragons flying west. Jon is my nephew, and not the product of Ned’s contrived infidelity._

“Bran, I can’t take anymore of it. Dead things. Bloodlines. Dragons flying around. Are there any other pressing matters that needs addressing before we take a break?”

The returning smile on Bran’s face was enough to make Catelyn groan out loud. She wanted her son back. The little boy who scaled towers and wanted to be a knight.

Whatever Bran had become was too much to comprehend. He was a human book of history; the Citadel rolled into one body.

“There is more to discuss, but why don’t you take a break. You seem weary and I’ve shared much information.”

 _Weary!? That doesn’t begin to convey I’m how I’m feeling. Gods, I love this boy, but I don’t even know what to say to him_.

Without another word, Catelyn stood up and moved quickly from the room. She needed air and reprieve from the onslaught of information.

Moving outside, Catelyn sat on a section of rock wall overlooking the Blackwater. Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them spill. She needed to be strong; particularly for her children and whatever it was that Bran became.

The sea breeze pushed through Catelyn’s hair as she reprimanded herself for the litany of things that she struggled to put words to. Then she felt a presence at her side.

Sitting down beside her, Jaime stared out at the sea as Catelyn had only moments earlier.

“That didn’t quite go how I envisioned.”

Catelyn snorted at Jaime’s words. His face was a slight blur behind the tears at her eyes, but she could make out just enough of his bewildered face to know that she was not alone in her reaction to Bran’s arrival.

“Nor I. My son thinks he’s a bird.” Catelyn’s voice was heavy with exhaustion as she considered Bran’s state.

Jaime hummed slightly. He continued to look out at the sea before he spoke. “I can’t help but think I had a hand in that.” After a moment’s pause, Jaime continued. “Sorry… hand pun _not_ intended.”

Something in Catelyn broke at the unintended jape. She started to laugh and cry at the same time. Rickon and Luwin had been certain of it; Bran was mentally well at Winterfell. While Jaime may have broken his body, he had not damaged his mind. Something else changed Bran in that regard.

Unable to muster a reply, Catelyn wiped at her eyes. Jaime’s arm came around her shoulder and tugged her close.

“It’s not all that bad. Mayhap he just needs time around all of you to remember the more… human side of himself. Think what a great Master of Whisperers he could make.”

Catelyn could only laugh harder. In the most Jaime way possible, he was making her feel better. He continued rambling on the subject as Catelyn leaned into him and chuckled through the sobs.

“Sure, we might need to work on his pacing when delivering overwhelming bits of information, but we would never be blindsided by attacks.”

Sniffing slightly, Catelyn wiped the last tears from her eyes. “It was quite a lot, wasn’t it?”

Jaime huffed a small laugh. “Just a bit. For a moment, I understood what it must be like in Tyrion’s mind. A bit dizzying. I suppose if we were to make Bran our Master of Whisperers, we would have to endure such onslaughts of information regularly. Gods. On second thought, I’ve changed my mind. I should offer my head again.”


	5. "I asked what hour he preferred his beatings"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne spends some time with Bran before helping him to the hall for some food.

When Jaime leaned into her ear and said that he would check on Catelyn, Brienne felt obligated to stay with Bran. The boy was strange and not like the other Stark children. Brienne wondered if he had always been like that, or if it happened after his fall.

Forcing a smile, Brienne met Bran’s vacant stare. His abrupt words took Brienne by surprise.

“You have your mother’s personality.”

_Alright then. I don’t know what to do with that._

“I don’t remember her. She died when… well, I suppose you already know all that.”

Bran’s lips tugged into a nearly imperceptible smile. A hint of the boy inside shone in his eyes before he spoke next.

“Your father loved her very much. It nearly broke him when she died. It will be far worse when Ser Jaime loses you.”

A chill ran down Brienne’s spine as she stared at Bran. The boy spoke cryptically without the slightest rise in his voice. He continued looking out the window as though lost in memories.

“You know when I’ll die?”

Bran shook his head in refute and looked at Brienne. His eyes seemed to search hers for something.

“No, I can’t see when you’ll die. I see visions of things that may come to pass, but I have yet to see you or Ser Jaime dying. I’m merely commenting on what you are to him. Sometimes when I see things, they come in bursts of light. Likes flames. His flame strengthens when you’re there. It burns brighter than any other flame that I’ve seen in my visions. By contrast, his flame always weakened around Cersei. You saved him in many ways. Had you not broken Cersei’s hold over him, his flame would have been snuffed out. It’s true what he said. He can live without his twin, but he cannot lose you. You’re the source of his light. His Evenstar.”

Brienne digested the words. It was difficult to imagine herself being so impactful on another person. The thought reminded Brienne of her greatest fear that past moon turn.

_My husband. The man who crippled this young man._

“Are you truly not angry with him?”

Bran seemed to consider the question. He shrugged as though it mattered little.

“I was angry at first. I hated him for what he did, but now I see more of it. He needed to save his family. I needed to become something more than Bran Stark. Sometimes I feel fleeting emotions driven by my former self, but I’ve not felt hate for him in some time. I’ve seen him protect my mother and siblings. They would have died without his aid. I’ve seen him defy his own House to honor his oaths. I’ve seen him do honorable, selfless things for those he didn’t even know. He will make a good king.”

Considering it, Brienne realized that Bran was correct, but it also struck her that if Jaime hadn’t pushed Bran from the tower, the war likely wouldn’t have started.

_Or would it have found a way? Was war doomed to find Westeros the moment Jaime lay with Cersei? Would Westeros have fought over something else instead?_

Brienne felt the tension leave her shoulders as she accepted that Bran would not seek just revenge against Jaime. Part of her had worried that Bran was merely holding back earlier when he wished to avoid speaking on the subject.

Considering Bran’s words, Brienne exhaled audibly. She had little desire to remain in King’s Landing. Now it seemed they were destined to see their children grow in the Red Keep.

“We had hoped to go to Tarth.”

Bran glanced over her shoulder and towards the window once more. The sun’s rays poked through and cast long shadows over his face.

“When it’s time, perhaps you will. You can show your children the cliff you both jumped from. Galladon would like that.”

_Children. Well, I suppose whenever I’m to die, it won’t be too soon if Bran sees me with more than one child. Although, I’m hard-pressed to believe Galladon would appreciate me showing the children that cliff. It likely taunts him from the heavens._

Brienne took a deep breath and appraised Bran.

“Do you miss being able to walk? Are you resentful that it was stolen from you, or can you not feel that emotion?”

For the first time since his arrival, Bran looked as a boy his age should. His features lightened as he smiled widely.

“I can’t walk, but I can fly.”

They spoke for a while longer until Brienne began to feel queasy again. She wheeled Bran to the great hall and asked the staff to bring food for the table. It was likely that Bran had little sustenance on his journey south.

Soon, Bran’s siblings joined them. Arya and Rickon were excited to be reunited with Bran, if not slightly uncertain what to make of his new persona. Something about being around his siblings kept Bran’s mood lighter and his eyes more youthful.

The staff soon brought out platters containing fruits, cheeses, and bread with various spreads. Taking what little she could stomach, Brienne smiled as she listened to the siblings converse as though they had never been apart.

_I wish I had that. I wish Galladon was still here. It was nice having Brent around for some time._

The sound of Catelyn’s laughter filled the hall as she and Jaime walked around the corner. Seeing Catelyn smile put Brienne at ease. During the meeting with Bran, Brienne had worried after her. It was a lot of information and much of it impacting Catelyn’s family; particularly her husband.

As Jaime took a seat beside Brienne, Bran smiled at his mother when she sat across from him and next to Arya.

Glancing to his sister, a small smile tugged at Bran’s lips. “You’ve improved greatly with Needle since Jon gave it to you.”

At the praise, Arya beamed. “I’ve been training with Ser Brienne and Ser Jaime! I’m going to be a great knight like Ser Brienne.”

Brienne felt her heart warm at the words. Glancing down the table, Arya winked before turning back to Bran. The exaggerated sigh at Catelyn’s lips did not go unnoticed.

“Arya, we had a deal. I’ve asked you to speak with Brienne about all this. I’d be proud if you become a knight, but I’m only asking for a bit of effort in matters expected of a noblewoman.”

Arya’s face fell slightly. Rolling her eyes, she glanced to Brienne.

“My mother says you had to learn all that womanly shit when you were young.”

Catelyn gasped at Arya’s vulgarity and covered her mouth to hide the shock. “Arya!”

Brienne bit back the laugh threatening to burst from her lips. The Stark matriarch rubbed her forehead in frustration as Arya shrugged innocently. Before Brienne spoke, Jaime leaned into her and chuckled.

“You should see Brienne’s _womanly shit_. A most impressive collection of items in her room at Tarth.”

Reaching for her hand under the table, Jaime chuckled lightly. His eyes danced with mirth when Brienne turned to meet his gaze.

The memory of her dinner in the Red Keep with Tyrion and Sansa came to Brienne. An evil smirk curled her lips as she met Jaime’s eyes. Sensing something was coming, Jaime’s brows knitted in confusion.

“Yes, I fear that I was not terribly good with womanly activities such as sewing or donning proper dresses of court, but do you know who I hear looked marvelous in dresses as a child? Ser Jaime.”

At her words, Jaime choked on the water he sipped from his cup. All eyes except Bran’s looked to her in shock.

“How did…” Jaime’s voice was small as he began to question her, but then his eyes darted to Bran.

“So is this is to be my punishment, Lord Bran? You’re to tell all the embarrassing tales of my childhood?”

Catelyn guffawed from down the table. She clutched her chest as laughter took hold. “It’s true then!? I’ll never get the image out of my head! Why were you in dresses?”

Bran smirked and raised a challenging brow at Jaime. “I said no such thing to your wife. I must concur with Tyrion, however. You looked best in green.”

Brienne chuckled as she watched Jaime stammer to provide context.

“Cersei made me. She wanted to train in the yards, so we had to trick her Septa.”

Catelyn hummed in feigned understanding. “Yes, I'm certain. Perhaps you can teach Arya the sword _and_ the needle.”

A victorious smile stretched across Brienne’s face. She leaned into Jaime’s side and whispered for his ears only. “Tyrion shares a lot and I’m friends with Bran now. Careful.”

Jaime chuckled at her side. His hand gripped hers tightly as his thumb rubbed back and forth across her knuckles. Not long after, they left the Starks to enjoy catching up with Bran. Walking the halls of the Keep, Brienne caught Jaime glancing to her belly. His lips tugged upwards slightly as they walked.

“So we’re having a little Targaryen?”

Brienne rolled her eyes before meeting Jaime’s.

“We’re having a lion of Tarth. I am as much a Targaryen as you are… or anyone else in Westeros for that matter.”

Bran had shared during their time together that Robert’s effort to remove anyone with Targaryen blood was doomed to be as effective as trying to remove anyone with Andal blood or blood of the first men. The blood of Valyria, while mostly of House Targaryen in Westeros, was too mingled among the other bloodlines of the Seven Kingdoms. Like House Tarth, the name Tagaryen may be extinct in Westeros, but not the bloodline.

None of it seemed to matter anymore. To Bran’s point, conquest gave claim to the throne. House Targaryen had lost the crown and Daenerys’ claim by Targaryen blood meant little. The larger issue would be keeping the crown in capable hands, and Bran was confident that Daenerys Targaryen would not offer security for the people of Westeros.

Jaime smiled at Brienne’s words. “A lion of Tarth or an Evenstar of the Rock? It seems the men quite prefer that.”

A moment’s silence passed over them before Jaime spoke again at her side.

“I met the Wildlings while I was outside with Catelyn. They are… boisterous. Bronn was with them which can’t possibly be good. They thought I was too southern to be a powerful king. I don’t much understand what that means, but Bronn told them that my wife could kick my ass. They seemed more interested in meeting you after that bit of information than continuing to speak with me.”

_Oh gods._

Jaime chuckled before continuing. His eyes sparkled with mirth.

“That Tormund fellow who leads them wants to spar you later.”

Brienne groaned and looking uneasily at Jaime. “What did you tell him?”

“I asked what hour he preferred his beatings.”


	6. “Then it will be war”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visitor arrives at the Keep

Laughter drifted down the hallway as Catelyn walked the long corridor at the Red Keep. It had been a fortnight since Bran arrived in the capital.

Bran elected to stay in King’s Landing rather than return to Winterfell. He felt that for now, he could be of greater use to the crown than he could to Jon.

Catelyn had seen much loss and injustice over the past years, and it seemed remarkable that her House was thriving. Of her five children, four lived to carry on the Stark line. The only thing sullying Catelyn’s mood was Bran.

His powers were impressive, but Catelyn longed for the little boy who ran around Winterfell climbing everything in sight, and training in the yards with Robb and Jon.

Following the laughter, Catelyn smiled as she found its source. True to his word, Jaime had set to the task of arranging a nursery. He intended to surprise Brienne with it, and Jaime took to working on the room while she was visiting the city’s orphanage.

_So this is why he skipped the small council today. Kingly business my ass._

Leaning against the doorframe, Catelyn bit back a laugh as she watched the scene unfolding before her. It seemed that her uncle and the Hound were the unlucky Kingsguard on duty that day. Having to follow their king closely, the Kingsguard seemed to double as carpenters of late.

Brynden was sweating slightly as he barked at Jaime while holding a plank of wood.

“That’s not how you fashion a damn crib! What are you doing?”

Jaime sat back on his heels as he looked at the scattered pieces around him. He sighed in frustration as his eyes darted to Brynden.

“It requires ends, does it not? I imagine the babe is meant to go in it and not under it. It’s a not fort!”

Brynden huffed in irritation and tilted his head at Jaime. “Have you ever built a damn thing in all your pampered life? Didn’t Tywin just buy you whatever you wanted? I would no sooner expect a carpenter to win a joust than I would expect a knight to build a bloody crib.”

“Fucking Lannisters. You should have seen the shit his father had imported when that cunt Joffrey was born. Damn lion heads all over the place.” The Hound’s gruff voice filled the room as he wiped at his sweat-drenched face.

Snapping at Sandor, Jaime chucked a piece of wood across the room. “Do I look to be importing shit from all over the known world? At this rate, the babe will be knighted before I get this damn thing built.”

It was Bran’s voice that surprised Catelyn. She had not seen her son tucked into the corner on his wheelchair when she first arrived.

“It seems our king could use a _hand_. Unless his Grace intends to use that gold brick as a hammer.”

Jaime sighed and glanced to Bran; a false smile plastered across his face. “You know Brandon, I liked you better when you offered stitching suggestions for the swaddles.”

Brynden snorted as he appraised the state of the room. “How exactly _are_ you planning to build this with one hand?”

Jaime’s face was the picture of defeat as he looked to the various pieces of materials piled around him.

_Gods. The dolt._

Moving into the room, Catelyn grabbed the attention of the men who had been seemingly unaware of her presence.

“Jaime. By the Seven, this is a catastrophe. We’ll get a proper crib for the room.”

At her voice, the men’s heads swiveled to her. Jaime narrowed his eyes and huffed in annoyance.

“I’m making excellent progress here, thank you.”

Looking around the room once more, Catelyn’s brows furrowed. It was a mess of raw materials and yet begun projects.

“Uncle. Sandor. Let me talk to this ridiculous man.”

The Kingsguard snorted and looked all too eager to leave the room. Dropping the items held in their hands, both exited quickly. With a smirk on her face, Catelyn sat on the floor beside Jaime.

“What are you doing? You know quite well that there are men skilled at this type of work. It would be much easier if you just purchased a crib.”

Scowling like a child, Jaime grumbled at her. “I don’t _want_ to purchase a crib. Lord Selwyn made the crib his children used. That’s what Brienne said at least. He saved it for grandbabes he would never get to meet.”

An understanding smile tugged at Catelyn’s lips. “Well I’m certain Ser Brent can have it sent here. Brienne would like that.”

Bitterness filled Jaime’s voice as he shoved away the wood at his knees. “She would if the fucking Mountain and his men hadn’t torched much of their things. It’s gone.”

With a heavy sigh, Catelyn appraised the wood. She understood Jaime’s frustration, but Catelyn also didn’t think Brienne would mind if he purchased a crib. Knowing Brienne, she likely thought it practical to just use something that was already available.

Considering Jaime’s intent, Catelyn had an idea.

“Ser Brent is quite handy. He was working on restoring an old dock before leaving Tarth to serve Brienne. Now he is leading the reconstruction effort. Why don’t you make a crib with him? You did agree to visit Tarth every so often and check on progress. Brienne would likely enjoy a trip home.”

Catelyn watched as Jaime took in the suggestion. Before he could respond, Bran’s voice filled the room.

“You could use some of the materials from Selwyn’s old bedframe. Parts of it are undamaged.”

A small laugh pushed passed Catelyn’s lips as she looked to her eldest surviving son. She had become more accustomed to his strange insights of late despite the sadness it brought her. It was a reminder of how far gone her little boy was.

Then a teasing smile tugged at Bran’s lips.

“A king might even be able to get away with indefinitely borrowing a certain shield too.”

A warning tone filled Catelyn’s voice as she narrowed her eyes at Bran. “A king will do no such thing. That is not honorable. It belongs to Tarth.”

Putting up a defensive hand, Bran shrugged slightly. “Is our queen not a Tarth?”

“Point well made, Lord Bran. I definitely like you better than your mother.”

Jaime smirked at Catelyn whose expression was the picture of disapproval. With a final warning, she held Jaime’s eyes.

“If anything other than a crib makes its way to King’s Landing, I will beat you over the head with that false hand of yours.”

Feigning innocence, Jaime shrugged. “I said nothing. Now… if the crib happens to show up with the shield strapped to it as part of the embellishments, who am I to refuse it?”

Jaime and Bran exchanged conspiratorial smiles as Catelyn stood from her position beside Jaime. “You’ll do no such thing. I’ll write to Ser Brent myself and ask if he is interested in helping your babe survive a crib built by your hand.”

As Catelyn moved towards the door, Brynden returned with an attendant close at his heels.

“Your Grace. We’ve received a guest at the gates begging audience.”

Catelyn turned to see Jaime lightly kicking at the wood on the floor. She knew that he heard the man, but Jaime continued to forget that he was no longer ‘Ser Jaime’, but rather ‘Your Grace’.

“Jaime. That would be you.”

At Catelyn’s words, Jaime looked up in confusion. “What? Oh! Right. Yes. Who is it? I’m very busy doing kingly things right now.”

“Lord Varys, your Grace.”

_He finally arrived. I’m most curious to hear what news he brings._

Unlike Catelyn, Jaime seemed less enthusiastic. “I’ll be down soon.”

Bran’s voice was once more devoid of emotion as he slipped into his three-eyed raven persona. His eyes looked vacant and his face impassive.

“You need to see him now.”

At Bran’s words, the message was immediately received by Jaime. With a sigh, Jaime walked to Bran and began to wheel him from the room. It had become an immediate response from Jaime whenever he was departing a room that Bran was in.

Catelyn watched as the pair moved into the hallway and fell into easy conversation. It had taken her by surprise to see how close the two had become in such a short span of time. Catelyn imagined it was easier for those who didn’t know Bran before his change to accept what he was now.

For Catelyn, speaking with Bran brought a sea of conflicting emotions. She longed to watch him run, climb, and laugh as he once did. Bran had grown quite a lot since she left in abed at Winterfell. Catelyn mused that Bran would stand near Jaime’s and Brienne’s height now.

_He would have made a fine knight._

Walking beside Jaime, Catelyn glanced over her shoulder to see her uncle and the Hound grumbling at one another. It was amusing seeing her uncle in the position of Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. It seemed a role that he was destined for and pleased with.

Jaime’s voice cut through her thoughts as he spoke to Bran.

“Anything you care to warn me about now or do you prefer watching me get smacked upside the face with shocking information?”

Bran’s voice was heavy with mirth as he continued to stare ahead. “I prefer watching you get smacked upside the face, whether literal or figurative.”

The sigh in response from Jaime was one that Catelyn almost mirrored, but then Bran spoke more seriously.

“He brings word of Daenerys. I should have been watching her more closely. She has allies in Westeros now.”

_Oh gods. Now what?_

As they entered the throne room, Varys bowed at their arrival. He looked as they had left him at Tarth’s docks. The only noticeable change in the man was his eyes. Varys looked fatigued. It was as though years were taken off his life in the relatively short time that he was overseas in Essos.

“Your Grace. I thank you for seeing me so quickly. I have much to tell you, but I fear my journey here has already cost us much time.”

Jaime led them towards the study and instructed one of the attendants to bring Varys water and food. It was a room Catelyn had not been in since Bran’s onslaught of information a fortnight ago. Taking their seats, Catelyn looked to Varys as he rubbed a hand across his weary face.

“As you know, I went to treat with Daenerys in hopes to aid her return to Westeros. It seems I was wrong about her. Things did not go as planned upon my arrival.”

Jaime snorted and leaned back in his chair. “I do believe that I warned you on the matter of Aerys’ daughter.”

“I’m not certain that your warning was a fair representation of the girl that I met compared to what she has become. Daenerys did seem genuinely interested in doing what was best for the people. She took Meereen and was trying to implement policy that she felt would aid the people. Unfortunately, she erred greatly along the way.”

As Varys spoke, Catelyn glanced to Bran. Bran’s eyes had rolled back in his head and it startled Catelyn. Jumping from her seat, Catelyn reached for her son in a panic.

“Bran! Bran, wake up!”

Jaime grabbed Catelyn’s arm and gently pushed it down, while shaking his head. “He’s fine. He’s flying.”

_What!? Flying? What does that mean!?_

Varys looked baffled as he looked between the three. His brows knitted together in confusion as he spoke to Jaime.

“Flying?”

Waving a dismissive hand, Jaime looked at Varys. “He’s doing his bird thing. I’ll explain later. Go on. Tell me how this supposedly sane woman lost your faith.”

Varys continued as his voice betrayed his trepidation over Bran’s physical state. Had Jaime not seemed so certain that Bran was well, Catelyn would have stormed out and called for the maester. Instead, she sat down slowly and glared at Jaime.

“As I said, she erred. Ser Barristan and I tried to offer her council on how to proceed with certain matters. She brought an end to slavery, but Meereen’s society was built on its back. Meereen needed her to _lead_ them through the change and not just oversee the end of a longstanding practice. Rebellions gripped the city and… she was killed.”

Catelyn and Jaime exchanged an uncertain glance at the words. It made little sense given reports that Daenerys was looking to return to Westeros.

“I don’t understand. You said she was killed or nearly killed?” Jaime’s eyes remain fixed on Varys as he questioned the man.

“She was _killed_. I watched her die. Sadly, Ser Barristan died too. A red priestess was there, however. The woman believes that Daenerys is not yet done in this world and she raised her. When Daenerys was brought back to life, she was much changed. She became angry and irrational. It is as though she can think of nothing other than conquering by fire and blood. When I fled Meereen, Daenerys was destroying the city with dragonfire. She became convinced that the entirety of the city was opposing her claim.”

Catelyn rubbed her forehead and sighed. She had heard of things like what Varys described, but it seemed as likely as dead things marching towards the Wall. Looking to Varys, Catelyn expressed her hesitance.

“Lord Varys, I do not question your tale except for Daenerys’ physical state when this red priestess got to it. Are you certain she wasn’t dying rather than dead? I struggle to believe she was brought back to life.”

“She was.” Bran’s voice drifted carelessly through the room. His eyes were fixed on Catelyn as he expanded on his statement.

“Her flame was extinguished. Daenerys was raised with the Last Kiss. It’s a rite practiced by the red priest of R’hllor. They breathe fire back into the deceased to restore life. It is not however without drawbacks. Those receiving the rite can return fixated on their desires or thoughts before death. It _changes_ them. Daenerys cannot be negotiated with.”

Varys nodded at the words. “She is much changed. I fled when I could, but I fear it won’t be long before she makes her way here. She is forming alliances with those capable of bringing her to Westeros.”

Catelyn felt a chill set in as she recalled Bran’s earlier words on the way to meet Varys. _‘I should have been watching more closely. She has allies in Westeros now.’_

Judging by the expression on his face, Jaime recalled the same. He looked between Varys and Bran questioningly.

“Who?”

Bran spoke calmly as though it was a trivial matter. The tone unnerved Catelyn as a boy his age should feel fear at such a looming threat.

“When Euron Grejoy was exiled from the Iron Island he went west. He had been making his way across Essos and met with Daenerys upon rumors of her military strength and ambition to reclaim the throne. Without anyone to council her, Daenerys accepted his audience. Euron promised a fleet to bring her men across the Narrow Sea.”

Jaime snorted. “Euron Greyjoy? He has no fleet.”

“He does now.” Bran answered quickly as though trying to deflect an enemy’s strike. “After agreeing to terms with Daenerys, he sailed home to the Iron Island. He killed his brother and has taken control of the Greyjoy fleet. Only Yara Greyjoy was there to oppose him, but she was killed by Euron’s hand. He now sails the fleet back to Meereen to fulfill his end of the bargain. She has agreed to wed him in exchange for his aid.”

Taking in the information, Catelyn considered the state of Westeros’ forces. Even if they had enough men, they were not prepared for dragons.

“How many men does Daenerys have?”

Varys’ voice spoke confidently at her side. “She had 8,000 Unsullied that she purchased in Astapor. Some died during the rebellions in Meereen,but I don’t know how many remain. She also has support from the Second Sons. They number nearly 2,000.”

Jaime snorted and crossed his arms. “The West alone has more men than that. The Greyjoys won’t bring her much more in way of numbers. We have enough to defend the Seven Kingdoms.”

“They have more than that.” Bran’s voice once more drew their attention to him. He seemed lost in thought again; a vacant look on his face.

“There is the matter of three dragons to deal with. They’ll also have the knights of the Vale.”

Catelyn’s eyes went wide at the words. She knew that Littlefinger and her sister were wary of the crown, but to move against them shocked her.

“Why would they do that?”

Bran’s tone was cold as he met Catelyn’s eyes. “Littlefinger knows what Westeros will face and he has allied with the dragon queen. He convinced Aunt Lysa that it is the only way to keep Robin safe. In exchange for the Vale’s support, Littlefinger has asked to serve as Hand. Daenerys has the Iron Islands, the Vale, an army of Unsullied, Second Sons, and three dragons. They will seek to treat with you first to appear peaceful to those they wish to conquer. Then it will be war.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder on the tag that this is "not Dany friendly". I would have written her more agreeable had she not died in this fic only to be brought back to life by Kinvara. Think Lady Stoneheart, but less dramatic of a change. Like Jon in the show, Dany wasn't dead that long, so the physical change is less dramatic.


	7. “We steal her dragons”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moon has passed since Varys arrived and the crown plans for war.

Brienne’s eyes fluttered opened and adjusted to the sunlight filling the room. The breeze from the balcony pushed warm against her face as a heavy arm draped over her side. Jaime’s hand lay splayed on the swell of her belly. His warm breath tickled her neck as Brienne yawned and stretched in the bed.

At Brienne’s movement, the arm under her pillow and the hand at her belly wrapped tightly around her. Jaime’s voice was heavy with sleep as he mumbled into her shoulder.

“Stop moving, wench. Pillows aren’t meant to move.”

A small smile tugged at Brienne’s lips. Not a day passed where Brienne still didn’t feel a sense of amazement that she was married to Jaime Lannister and he was happy for it. He did not bed her for duty, but for desire. He did not hold her out of obligation, but of want.

It had been a moon turn since Varys arrived at King’s Landing. Much preparation had begun throughout the kingdoms as they anticipated the arrival of Daenerys Targaryen. Varys deployed his spies to the Vale to report on Littlefinger’s movements which Brienne thought comical given Bran’s presence.

_‘Why can’t Bran just do his thing and tell us what’s going on?’_

Only a week prior, Brienne and Jaime had visited Tarth to check on the restoration progress. Brienne was excited to return to her island and meet with the people. She felt badly for not being able to spend as much time with Brent as she preferred, but there was much to do and dignitaries to meet with.

Fortunately, Jaime was able to spend a good deal of time with Brent. The pair seemed to hit it off well, and Brienne was glad of it. Brent was a kind and genuine man. His wife and babe, a girl named Alys, were wonderful. From what few memories Brienne had of Galladon, Brent reminded her of the brother she lost. In a way, it felt as though Jaime was spending time with a goodbrother rather than a castellan.

Brienne had been taken aback at how highly regarded she was on Tarth. Tales of her fighting prowess had reached the village and the people were eager to meet their new Evenstar.

Young girls were seeking opportunity to partake in training programs and take up arms in defense of Tarth. It was a welcome sight, and Brienne was eager to speak with Brent about putting training opportunities into place for Tarth's daughters.

After hearing of it, Jaime proposed that Tarth send their top ten squires to King’s Landing for training with their best knights. Brienne was keen on seeing her people participate more in training on the mainland, as the armies employed different fighting styles and tactics. She had also learned much from sparring with Westeros’ best.

Sadly, they could not stay for more than a week. With Daenerys making her way across the sea shortly, they needed to do much in way of preparations. It had been a welcome break from the chaos of the city. Jaime and Catelyn had been working tirelessly to prepare for what was to come.

A need for Tyrion’s mind had brought him to the city for aid. The younger Lannister left Daven in charge at the Rock and arrived at the Keep with Sansa a week ago. While Jaime had a mind for war, he needed all the advice he could get on a plan for dealing with the non-militaristic aspects of the threat.

Knowing Daenerys had dragons, Jaime did not want to immediately assault the enemy upon arrival. He feared the queen would go mad and torch the city in retaliation. Besides, it was hardly the size of Daenerys’ army that worried Jaime.

It seemed the key to winning the battle with Daenerys was to take out her dragons. The Seven Kingdoms came together to develop weapons that could fell the great beasts _if necessary_. Fortunately, they had Bran on their side.

Bran was able to observe past battles involving dragons to identify their weaknesses. They were not easy to kill and standard weapons such as the bow and arrow would be ineffective against their thick scales. They would need large-scale ballistae and cunning to thwart the threat.

Based on what Bran could see, Euron still had a week’s journey to Essos with the Greyjoy fleet. By the time Daenerys’ army loaded their supplies, boarded the ships, and sailed to Westeros, it would be at least another moon turn before they marched on King’s Landing.

Frustratingly, only Lysa and Robin remained at the Vale. Littlefinger had set out for the Iron Islands before the crown realized the threat. Baelish was aboard Euron’s ship and headed for Meereen with the self-proclaimed king of the Iron Islands.

It had been a source of debate at the small council as to whether they should imprison Lysa before Littlefinger's return. Jaime thought it made little sense to afford Lady Lysa continued security and freedom at the Vale when she willingly went along with Littlefinger’s plans to commit treason.

For her part, Catelyn thought it would only undermine their efforts to treat with the Vale before the dragon queen arrived. Catelyn was attempting to undercut her sister’s rule from within. She and Jaime proposed marriage alliances between key vassals of the Vale to their loyal nobles from other kingdoms.

In the meantime, King’s Landing prepared for war. Today they would call a full war council with all members of the small council and wardens present.

Rolling to her back, Brienne snorted as Jaime draped his leg of hers. His thigh brushed slightly against the underside of her burgeoning belly. At four moons pregnant, Brienne was starting to feel the babe move around. It was a strange sensation; like a butterfly caught in her belly.

To Jaime’s frustration, he couldn’t feel the babe yet. Grand Maester Luwin indicated it might be a few weeks longer until the blows were strong enough for Jaime to feel the little one.

In the meantime, Jaime constantly inquired if the babe was moving, or as he had taken to saying, ‘sparring’. The only good thing to come of the madness in the city was the distraction it afforded Jaime from Brienne’s pregnancy. She was thrilled that Jaime was so eager to be a true father, but he could be a bit overprotective at times.

It took a monumental effort, but Brienne was soon able to drag Jaime from bed. She wondered if dealing with Jaime was akin to raising a child.

_Why must everything by so challenging? My seemingly logical and reasonable requests are met with a litany of ridiculous questions. ‘Yes, you have to take petitioners.’ ‘No, you can’t give the crown to Bronn.’ ‘Yes, you have to wear breeches.’_

Of course, Brienne knew that Jaime was teasing. He hated the mundane aspects of ruling, but he was taking the role seriously and making sound decisions with Catelyn’s input.

Brienne also understood that he was not pleased for what was to come at the day’s war council. It had been the source of an argument last night.

Making their way into the hall to break their fast, Brienne observed Sansa and Tyrion eating with Genna. On their approach, Tyrion smirked and rolled his eyes. It was evident that Genna was going on one of her rants about the _proper_ running of the Rock.

“And don’t let the gods damned Leffords squabble over the bloody border farms. The neighboring vassals are too important to vex.”

Tyrion groaned as Genna continued her tangent. Taking a seat beside Sansa, Brienne smiled as the young woman leaned into her ear.

“I was hoping we might speak later when you’re done with the war council.”

Brienne nodded in agreement and appraised her goodsister. She was pleased to see Tyrion and Sansa looking so well. The young woman looked happy and the West was thriving under their rule.

Sansa’s eyes dropped to Brienne’s belly and a smile tugged at her lips. “Do you think you’ll have a little prince or princess?”

Groaning inwardly, Brienne forced a smile to her face. She didn’t want a prince or a princess. She wanted a future Evenstar for Tarth.

It was yet another reminder of what this babe would mean to Westeros. Brienne had seen the danger the throne brought the last young rulers to wear the crown, and she did not want that burden for her own children.

With a slight shrug, Brienne met Sansa’s eyes. “Truthfully, I’m not certain. Jaime insists this is to be a girl, and she’ll knock all the boys around the yard.”

Sansa snorted and rolled her eyes. “I hope that if it’s a girl, she enjoys sewing with her Aunt Sansa. I should like that.”

When they finished eating, their small group made their way towards the war council. While Sansa would not attend, she had offered to take tea with Lord Paxter’s daughter, Lady Desmera Redwyne.

Some years back, Tywin had tried brokering a marriage between Lady Desmera and Ser Daven, but their betrothal did not come to pass. Instead, Jaime had invited Lady Desmera to King’s Landing to discuss a match that might aid the kingdoms.

It was important that the crown establish alliance with key vassals in the Vale . Catelyn had shared that Ser Harrold Hardyng was the great-nephew of Jon Arryn and presumptive heir to the Vale should anything happen to Robin.

Harrold was just two years older than Lady Desmera and, knowing the young lady was available and her father a small council member, Jaime felt they would make a strong match. By joining House Redwyn to House Hardyng, the crown would gain an important ally in the Vale and continue to chip away at Littlefinger’s and Lysa’s hold over the kingdom.

The only hesitation on Lord Paxter’s part was rumor of Harrold’s bastards. A good-looking man that many believed to resemble a young Jon Arryn, Harrold already fathered two bastards. Lord Paxter was wary that either child may seek claim over legitimate children that his daughter may birth.

When Lord Paxter and his daughter arrived, Sansa greeted the young woman and escorted her towards the gardens. Brienne liked Lord Paxter. He made for a perfect Master of Ships. His naval expertise was unparalleled, and Brienne enjoyed listening to him speak on matters concerning the royal fleet.

As the room filled in, the council began. Catelyn brought the room to order and started by announcing political maneuvers before delving into topics of war.

“Let us begin with matters concerning the Iron Islands. Theon Greyjoy has been named Lord of the Iron Islands. He is betrothed to Lady Wylla Manderly and will take his new bride to Pyke after serving as Castellan of Winterfell in Jon's absence.”

Brienne smiled at the announcement. She, Jaime, Bran, and Catelyn had discussed it a moon prior after word of Euron’s kinslaying. While Bran was at Winterfell, he observed the developing relationship between Theon and the younger Manderly daughter.

Wylla was headstrong and refused her last betrothal. It was an act of defiance that reminded Brienne of herself. To further her refusal, Wylla gave her maidenhead to a local boy. When Wylla fell pregnant, her father raged. He threatened to send her to the Silent Sisters given her defiance of a betrothal and her unladylike behavior.

When Theon visited White Harbor on orders of Jon, he met Wylla and the two fell in love. Wylla knew of Theon’s maiming and inability to have children of his own. To Jaime and Catelyn, it seemed an opportunity for Theon to claim the babe and provide an heir to the Iron Islands.

Both Wylla and Theon were pleased with the suggestion as was Wylla’s father, Ser Wylis. For now, they would live at Winterfell until Theon could safely take his young family to the Iron Island. Catelyn liked that it further tied the North to the Iron Islands. She was forever grateful to Theon for the aid he gave Rickon and Bran, but memory of his initial betrayal still haunted her.

Word was sent to Pyke of the crown’s decree. The babe that Wylla carried would be presented as a Greyjoy with none being the wiser.

It had also been determined that Jon was needed in King’s Landing before Daenerys arrived. Bran had had smiled and looked to Catelyn, stating _‘It’s time’_ when discussing Jon’s role in what was to come.

As Catelyn continued, Brienne glanced at Ser Paxter.

“For treason against the crown, Petyr Baelish and Lysa Baelish are henceforth stripped of their lands and titles. Lord Robin Arryn has been sent word that he is to journey to King’s Landing and pledge fealty to our king. If he refuses to do so, he will be unseated in favor of Ser Harrold Hardyng, the great-nephew of the late Lord Jon Arryn.”

A knowing smile tugged at Paxter’s lips. From Harrold’s last correspondence, the young lord was expected to arrive at the city within days.

Between Catelyn’s announcement, successful betrothals to other key Vale vassals, and the elevation of Lord Royce as Castellan on account of Robin’s age, Catelyn was confident that they would have the Vale. Their more political approach to dealing with Lysa and Petyr should ensure support rather than ire.

They were forcing Lysa out without appearing belligerent in their use of power. Lysa herself had not been summoned to court, but given Robin’s requested presence, it afforded them one of three opportunities.

One path would see Robin escorted to the capital by Lord Royce, in which case Catelyn would offer her nephew protection under the crown and Robin would be housed in King’s Landing.

Another path that Lysa may take would be to join Robin in the city. Catelyn did not count on that happening. It seemed her sister was far too infatuated with Petyr to abandon him.

The third and most likely option was for Robin to ignore the summons. Lysa would keep Robin at the Eyrie, in which case the crown had enough evidence to demonstrate to the Vale’s vassals that Lysa’s defiance placed them in open rebellion, and subsequently in harm’s way.

Based on their backing from the vassals and Lord Royce, Catelyn felt it would be easy to remove Lysa. Ser Addam would lead a group of the crown’s men into the Eyrie. They would arrest Lysa and take Robin to Riverrun where he would be placed as a ward under Edmure. While Robin would lose the Vale, Catelyn would ensure a fair and proper match for her nephew. Lysa would be brought to King’s Landing to await a formal trial.

Catelyn had worried for Robin. She shared with Brienne that the boy was overly dependent on his mother. He seemed weak and immature when Catelyn saw him last. It would take time to correct the unintentional damage that Lysa inflicted on the boy’s psyche.

Lastly, they had to deal with the matter of Daenerys. They wished to resolve the matter with as little loss to life as possible. It was Bran who spoke at Catelyn’s nod of approval.

“Daenerys’ strength is not in her army. It is in her dragons. She rides the largest of the three, Drogon. To defeat Daenerys we need to remove the dragons or remove her. We should try to avoid killing the dragons if we can.”

Several members of the council grumbled in response. Even Addam looked uncertain; glancing between Jaime and Catelyn.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to kill the dragons? Those beasts can destroy the entire city with a few breaths. Without them, the dragon queen is just a girl. Her army is smaller than ours.”

Brienne sighed and looked to Bran. The young man had argued his point several times over the night prior to Jaime and Catelyn. With as much confidence as he had the night before, Bran continued.

“Neither of the smaller dragons have bonded to a rider yet. As tempting as it may be to remove them, we will need them in the war to come with the Night King. If we must target one, we should target Drogon. I would caution that we would try to save him if we can. When a dragon’s rider dies, the creature can bond with a new rider. I have yet to see the reverse, however. I’m uncertain if a rider can take a second dragon. It is my hope that if we can separate Daenerys and Drogon by bringing death to either of the two, we will win this war. Preferably, we need to target Daenerys.”

Tyrion snorted from down the table. “From what I’ve read, a dragon won’t accept merely anyone that tries to hop onto its back. Even those with Valyrian blood have been rejected by dragons and killed for their effort. How can you be so certain that the dragons will accept anyone we try to have mount them? How are you even going to draw them in?”

At Tyrion’s question, all eyes fell on Bran. Jaime sighed loudly at Brienne’s side. Brienne glanced down at his flesh hand as it balled under the table. His jaw clenched as he looked to Bran.

“In my visions, I’ve seen two dragons and two riders. There is something blurry in the sky behind them. It could be the third dragon or something else. My visions are not always so clear.” 

Tyrion raised his brows expectantly and shrugged. “And… do we have these supposed riders among us?”

Bran glanced to Brienne. “We have one. Our queen. We have summoned another to the capital.”

Brienne could feel the stares of those assembled. Their eyes were wide in question as the room fell silent. Jaime shook his head at Brienne’s side and crossed his arms as he grumbled in dissatisfaction.

In truth, Brienne thought that Bran’s plan toed the line between genius and insanity. Jaime hated the idea and had raged for hours. Even Catelyn felt it an unacceptable approach, but they agreed to present it before the council to gauge reactions.

It was Ser Brynden who broke the silence. “And what of it, Lord Bran? Don’t tell me that you mean to have us place our queen in harm’s way? She carries the heir to the Iron Throne! Have you noticed that swell at her belly? I can assure you, it is not indigestion.”

Bran shook his head. “Our queen will not be in harm’s way; of that I can assure you. We should accept the request to treat with Daenerys. She will no doubt bring her dragons to demonstrate her power. To make us feel fear. I suggest we treat with Daenerys within the Keep where she won’t be able to see her _children_. We need her distracted, and nothing will accomplish that objective more than the sight of the Iron Throne.”

Brynden’s brows furrowed at Bran’s words. He glanced around the room as though awaiting the information that would make the plan clearer. With an exasperated huff, Brynden looked to Bran.

“And then what? What are we distracting her from?”

A sly smile tugged at Bran’s lips. Meeting his great-uncle’s inquisitive stare, Bran spoke as though the idea simple in execution.

“We steal her dragons.”


	8. “When do our friends arrive”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war council hears Bran's plan and makes a decision.

Jaime grimaced as he appraised the reaction of those in the room. He understood their trepidation as he felt the same way. It was an insane plan and one he was not fond of.

Addam guffawed and slung his arm over the back of Catelyn’s chair, tapping her shoulder in the process. He tugged her close and spoke teasingly.

“Come now Lady Hand. You can’t possibly think this a good idea? As Master of Laws, I feel it my duty to remind you that our job is to keep the crown safe. This doesn’t feel very safe.”

Catelyn rolled her eyes before glancing at Bran with thinly veiled dissatisfaction writ across her face. “I _detest_ the plan, but we agreed to hear it out in council. Bran, tell them of the dragons and the rest of it.”

With a slight nod, Bran continued. “Dragons are extremely intelligent creatures and loyal once bonded. They cannot be tamed, but they can be trained by those with Valyrian blood. Little written word remains on how to accomplish such a thing, but I’ve _seen_ the earliest methods. I’ll handle luring them in and then we’ll let the riders attempt to bond.”

Tyrion’s brows furrowed as he studied Bran from down the table. “How do you propose luring them in? Seems a risky endeavor.”

“I’ll warg into each of the smaller dragons to guide them into the dragonpit. We’ll have our potential riders waiting to bond with them and we’ll make a peace offering. I daresay we’ll require a good deal of sheep.”

At the words, Brynden stood upright in a rage. “Sheep!? Your plan is to somehow lure them into the dragonpit where you plan to sit amongst sheep with our queen. This is madness!”

An incredulous expression stretched across Brynden’s face as he turned to Jaime. “Your Grace, you can’t possibly mean to consider this.”

Jaime felt all eyes land on him. The argument with Bran was fresh in his mind from the night prior. Unlike the rest of the council, he had been hearing of dragons and riders and bloody sheep for a week straight. Jaime thought back on the day he returned from Tarth a week ago.

Jaime had taken Bran to the godswood after the morning council meeting concluded. The young man liked to sit near the weirwood and _fly_. It was something they had taken to doing since Bran’s arrival.

Jaime would lay on the grass beside him and stare up at the passing clouds. He amused himself by speaking to Bran as though the young man could hear him; often offering suggestions for where he believed Bran should fly next. That day was no different.

“I think you should visit Ser Bronn of the Blackwater on one of your visits. The brothel workers were overjoyed to hear that their top patron was cleared for all host of physical activities again. Then you can bring back embarrassing details of his evenings and we can needle him at the next council meeting.”

Jaime chuckled at his own idea. They had appointed Bronn as Commander of the Gold Cloaks and begun to include him in small council meetings. The men both respected and enjoyed Bronn. They had been thrilled at the appointment even if Catelyn groaned in distaste. The addition of Bronn had only served to encourage Addam’s ribald tales before and after council sessions. Jaime again chuckled at the thought. If you looked past her feigned disapproval, Jaime was certain that Catelyn enjoyed Addam’s nonsense.

Before Jaime could continue the game, Bran’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“I saw it.”

Jaime hummed and turned to look at Bran. The young man had _that_ look on his face again which immediately captured Jaime’s attention. Jaime sat upright and stared at Bran.

“Saw what?”

Bran continued to stare at the tree blankly before looking to Jaime. “Do you trust me with your wife’s life and the life of your unborn babe?”

Jaime did not like the question. His tone was warning. “Bran. Speak plainly.”

There was no mirth in Bran’s eyes when he spoke.

“I saw Brienne on one of the dragons. One of Daenerys’ dragons. I saw Jon on one too. It wasn’t Daenerys they fought though. It was the dead. She had…”

Bran’s brows knitted as he broke eye contact with Jaime. He seemed to be working out the vision in his mind.

“Brienne had Oathkeeper at her hip, but something different was in her hand. I couldn’t make it out. Jon held his valyrian steel blade in hand. Before the battle began, Brienne veered south on the dragon. I saw Daenerys on her dragon taking aim at something. Brienne blocked her path, but I couldn’t see what Daenerys was focused on. It was as though Brienne was protecting something. In my vision, Brienne was with child, but instead of wielding Oathkeeper, she held a bow and arrow.”

Jaime felt dread set in. “Bran… what are you saying?”

“We need to find a way to get to Daenerys’ dragons. They need to be alive for what is to come, and we need to get Jon and Brienne to bond with them. I can’t see the third dragon in the vision. Something blurry was behind Jon and Brienne. I couldn’t make it out very well.”

The night before the war council, Bran had come to Jaime’s and Brienne’s room. Bran had Catelyn with him, and the young man insisted that he must speak with them before the council the next day. When Bran told them his idea, both Catelyn and Jaime had raged.

“I need you to distract Daenerys, Euron, and Littlefinger in the Keep. Agree to treat with them while I join Jon and Brienne at the dragonpit. We’ll lure the smaller dragons in and see if they can bond with them.”

Jaime had scoffed. A mad laugh pushed passed his lips as he looked between Bran and the two women. “Oh sure. We’ll just lure in dragons, Brandon! ‘Here little dragon. Have some people to eat!’ No. This is your worst idea yet. Stick to swaddling suggestions.”

Bran’s calm, cavalier attitude unnerved Jaime. It was the most ludicrous suggestion that Jaime had ever heard.

Before Bran could speak, Catelyn had leaned forward and glared at her son. “You will not put Jon and Brienne in harm’s way. I don’t know what is going on in that head of yours, but they will not be used as bait for dragons.”

Bran shrugged and looked to Brienne. “I’m sorry. Then I fear that our queen will die.”

The words were like a slap to Jaime’s face. He reeled back and gawked at Bran before composing himself. “We will defend the Seven Kingdoms as planned. We’ve been working on weapons that _you_ said can kill the dragons. We will target Daenerys and bring down her army. We have enough to fight her off.”

With a slight shrug, Bran held firm. “You might bring down one dragon with your weapons, but not all three. They’re intelligent and once they realize the threat, they will find another way. They’ll burn this city to the ground before you have time to try a new approach. Daenerys wants the Iron Throne, but she wants to conquer more than sitting on _that_ throne. She’ll raise a new throne over the ashes if it so pleases her. Fire and blood. It is the only way she knows now. Besides, the moment she sees Brienne, it will ignite a new fire in her.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at the words. “What? Why would seeing Brienne set her off?”

Bran’s head tilted slightly as he appraised Brienne. His eyes lowered to the swell at her belly. “She has Valyrian blood _and_ she carries a future. Daenerys traded her womb for her love. Only death can pay for life. When she sees a pregnant usurper with Valyrian blood, she will target Brienne first.”

The weight of Bran’s words sat heavy on Jaime. He knew that no matter what, they could not have Brienne present during the treaty with Daenerys.

With a heavy sigh, Jaime shook his head and looked to Bran. “There has to be a better way.”

“There isn’t. I don’t see another path that keeps Westeros safe. I don’t see another approach that keeps Brienne alive. We should have the pit equipped with ballistae. With their crossbow-like precision, we can ensure Brienne’s and Jon’s safety. If the dragons appear aggressive or about to harm them, we will kill them. You have my word. I do believe we can bond our riders to them.”

Catelyn stood from her chair and paced wildly. “You said there are others with Valyrian blood. You said that Brienne is not the only Blackfyre alive, just as there are others of the Targaryen line. Valyrian blood. Why can’t we identify them? I don’t want it to be Jon and Brienne. Not my family!”

Bran nodded in understanding. “Yes, there are others, but having Valyrian blood isn’t enough. Even Targaryen princes and princesses born of inbreeding have been rejected by dragons. I don’t know what encourages the dragons to accept some of Valyrian decent, but not others. In my visions, I saw Brienne and Jon on the backs of the dragons. Not others. If I knew that another would be accepted, I would agree with you.”

“I’ll do it.”

Brienne’s voice caught Jaime and Catelyn by surprise. She swallowed thickly and nodded. Taking a deep breath, she met Bran’s eyes.

“Just… keep the bloody ballistae ready to fire.”

Bran smiled widely and nodded. “I’ll need to teach you some commands in Valyrian.”

_What!?_

“Wait! I didn’t agree to this!”

At Jaime’s word, Brienne’s face flashed with anger. He knew that he was in for it the moment the words left his mouth.

“And I didn’t ask you to agree. As Bran said, there doesn’t appear to be another option. If I can do my part to stop this madwoman from torching the city, I’ll do it. I’m a knight just as you are. You charged me to protect the innocent and that is what I intend to do.”

Before Jaime could argue the matter, Bran spoke again.

“I meant what I said in the godswood. I will keep our queen and your babe safe.”

Jaime’s eyes were wide as he looked between Bran and Brienne. “This is madness. On a scale of Aerys to Tyrion, this is your most Aerys idea yet, Brandon! I don’t like this.”

“Nor do I.” Catelyn’s voice was resolute from Bran’s side. With a deep sigh, she shook her head and looked to Bran. “We will not reach an accord on this. I say we present this at the council tomorrow and take the group’s input. There is one other thing that I require, however. We will not name Jon in that meeting. He doesn’t know of his lineage, and I wish to speak with him first.”

Bran nodded in agreement before continuing to describe how he intended to make a peace offering to the dragons. At the mention of sheep, Jaime lost it again.

Jaime huffed in frustration and crossed his arms. “Just a farm’s worth of sheep, Bran? Nothing else? Mayhap they would like some furs cloaks for trips north with Jon. Or perhaps they prefer a marriage alliance. I hear there are some very willing horses in the stables. Nearly bedded the poor stable hand the other day.”

As rare as snow in the south, Bran chuckled at Jaime’s words.

_I’m glad he is amused by this nonsense. I’m ready to cut down his damn weirwood tree that he seems so enamored with. Mayhap I’ll make a crib out of that. No… on second thought, then he would just beside it all night, staring creepily at my sleeping babe._

Now as Jaime sat in the war council, he forced the most painful, artificial smile of his life. Looking to Ser Brynden, Jaime shrugged.

“I care little for this plan, but we’ve agreed to hear Lord Bran out. When he finishes telling us of his idea, we can discuss it further. Go on, Bran. Tell us more about your peace offerings and grand plans to lure in a dragon as a fisherman might the day’s catch.”

Bran told them the entirety of his plan including his visions of what they faced, and what was to come. All information was shared except for Jon’s identity. Bran fielded several questions from the council before there was nothing left to say on the matter.

Any mirth once in Addam’s tone was gone as he looked to Brienne. “My queen. What are your thoughts? We all know you’re one of the most capable knights in Seven Kingdoms, _but_ you are with child. You carry the heir to the Iron Throne.”

Jaime had to bite his tongue from speaking out of turn. He knew that Brienne could make her own decisions, but he couldn’t help but feel protective of her and their unborn babe.

“I think it is our best option. With the added assurance of ballistae in the pit, I think it is fair to at least try. I imagine there are others with more Valyrian blood than me, but if Lord Bran believes a dragon would accept me, I’m willing to attempt it.”

_Absurd. Why can’t she bond with a bloody cat or a horse? Why a dragon? Why can’t the wench do anything at average scale?_

Addam sighed and shook his head. He met Jaime’s eyes and frowned. “I’m sorry, your Grace. If your queen means to do this, I would support her in it. She’s capable and we’ll ensure she is well-guarded.”

From down the table, Bronn nodded. His tone was devoid of its usual jest. “Aye. I’ll be there with ‘er. One of them things so much as look at ‘er the wrong way, I’ll fire a fuckin’ arrow through its head. Ya have me word.”

As Warden of the West, Tyrion nodded in agreement. “It seems the best option. Who is the second rider?”

Jaime’s eyes darted to Catelyn and Bran. Per his agreement, Bran gave away nothing, but Catelyn was at war with something.

Taking a deep breath, Catelyn sighed. “In his vision, Bran saw Jon. We know little of his mother. It could be that like Brienne, the woman had some line to the Blackfyres or other unknown Targaryens. Hopefully he has enough Valyrian blood.”

Jaime felt shock course through him. It was Catelyn’s opportunity to refute Ned’s infidelity, but she chose to honor his lie.

_Why not just say we don’t know his connection yet? She could easily claim that Bran has yet to investigate Jon’s lineage._

Slight murmuring broke out around the table, but Jaime could only focus on Catelyn. He knew the impact that Ned’s lie had on her. It seemed to hurt her more than the believed infidelity, but the fact that she would let others think Jon was still Ned’s son surprised him.

A deep sympathy for Catelyn coursed through Jaime. He had been cruel to her about Ned’s supposed infidelity years ago. It was one of the few occasions he had seen genuine hurt in her eyes.

Slowly, the rest of the council agreed with the plan. Only the Blackfish stood by his initial reaction that it was foolish and too great a risk to Brienne.

Jaime felt Bran’s eyes on him. Glancing to the young man, he saw the sincerity in the young man’s eyes when he spoke.

“As I said, you have my word.”

Begrudgingly, Jaime agreed. Brienne’s satisfaction at his side did not go unnoticed. She was always self-sacrificing and willing to attempt anything for the greater good, but it was no longer just her to consider. Their babe was in her care until birth.

With a snide smile, Bronn called out from down the table.

“Well glad that’s settled. When do our friends arrive?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is a mini jump ahead (just over a moon turn) as the dragon queen arrives.


	9. “I will give it to you”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Daenerys meets King Jaime. Things go as well as can be expected.

Catelyn stood beside Jaime atop the battlements as they appraised the enemy’s forces. True to expectation, Daenerys’ forces were dwarfed by the combined armies of the Seven Kingdoms.

It had been six weeks since the council met to decide their approach. The city gates were mounted with massive ballistae that resembled large crossbows.

Their own army stood at the city gates facing the enemy. It was the first time in Catelyn’s life that she had seen the combined forces of the Seven Kingdoms stand together against a threat.

They outnumbered the enemy seven to one. While Catelyn wanted nothing more than to see their armies standing shoulder to shoulder for the last time, from Bran’s visions there was a greater threat coming for them.

Catelyn glanced to the Hill of Rhaenys in the distance. The outline of the dragonpit loomed ominously and Catelyn’s heart quickened knowing that Jon and Brienne were there with Bran and far more sheep than she cared to think on.

A moon turn earlier, Jon arrived at the capital with some surprising travel companions. On his path through the Crossroads, Lord Royce and an escorting party of knights from the Vale brought Lord Robin to the city.

After greeting the arrivals, they had taken Jon into the study to discuss matters with him. The memory of their conversation played out in Catelyn’s mind.

As Catelyn sat in the study with Jaime, Jon, Bran, and Brienne, she watched as Jon struggled to digest the information of his lineage. Shaking his head, Jon sighed loudly before looking around the group.

“I don’t know what to say. I’ve always been a Snow. A bastard of House Stark. I wish to serve my family as best I can, but… I don’t want to be king.”

Jaime sighed and sat back in his chair. “Nor do I. Are you certain? It comes with a fancy chair. It is a bit uncomfortable, but just throw one of your northern furs on it.”

Jon snorted and shook his head. “I’m sorry you’re in the position. I always wanted to know who my mother was. In a way, I’m glad she was a Stark. It makes me feel less… lost. I can’t say that I’m as pleased to hear that I’m a Targaryen. It’s my fault then. The war.”

Catelyn’s heart dropped at Jon’s words. “That is not your fault! Prince Rhaegar is responsible for his actions. He was a married prince and left his wife and babes for another woman. Do not try to shoulder that responsibility. If it wasn’t Lyanna, I imagine it would have been another.”

Jon’s face fell once more. Looking to Bran, Jon’s eyes were pleading. “Surely my birth has some other purpose than the crown. I can’t rule the Seven Kingdoms. I know the North, and I can help Rickon to the best of my ability, but I wasn’t trained to understand the other kingdoms. You and Robb learned from father… sorry… from my _uncle_.”

Jon’s grimaced at his own correction. Catelyn could tell that his identity was in shambles from the information. It was clear that Jon wanted little more than to return to ignorance. Before she could interject, Jon continued.

“I was allowed to shadow your father as he demonstrated how to rule. He made certain that I understood what was expected in the North, but my lesson was received as a Northern bastard. I didn’t attend to political matters concerning other kingdoms as you and Robb did. It wasn’t necessary. I can help Rickon as he leads, but I could never begin to understand the ways of the other kingdoms. King Jaime understands them all. I’m sorry, but he is doing a far better job than I ever could.”

Catelyn glanced to Jaime and Brienne. They tried to mask their disappointment, but it was plain to see. Still, it mattered little. After speaking with Bran some time ago, they understood how inconsequential bloodlines meant in all of this. Conquest would determine who rules. Not Targaryen blood.

Looking at Jon, Catelyn spoke resolutely.

“We will never speak of this again. You are Ned’s son and that is what we will honor. He swore an oath to your mother. I will honor that.”

Jon’s face betrayed his shock at Catelyn’s words. He moved to protest, but she put up her hand. “Ned’s son. Nothing else matters.”

Breaking Catelyn from her memories, the sound of approaching dragons caught her attention. Looking to the horizon, Catelyn gasped at the sight of three looming figures breaking through the clouds.

_Gods. Bran was right. She intends to show us her full strength. To intimidate us._

Under flag of treaty, Catelyn could see a small group approaching the city. They were escorted through the city gates as Daenerys passed over the city several times from atop her dragon. The frightened cries of citizens below reached Catelyn’s ears at the Keep.

Catelyn’s stomach lurched at the sight. It was unclear if the dragon queen meant only to intimidate or appraise the city for targets when the war began. Grabbing Jaime’s arm, Catelyn met his eyes.

“Lets join the small council inside. Time to meet the dragon queen.”

As Jaime and Catelyn entered the throne room, she noted the small council standing at the base of the stairs. The Kingsguard and Gold Cloaks lined the sides of the throne room. Standing beside the throne, Ser Brynden stood tall and determined.

At Jaime’s entry, those assembled bowed and the small council parted to allow him access to the throne. Catelyn followed closely and stood opposite Ser Brynden.

They had been well-armed with information from Bran and rehearsed what information was to be shared. It was important they stated their claim to Daenerys, but more so that they delayed refusal to abdicate so that the group in the dragonpit had enough time.

The Keep shook abruptly, and a dragon’s cry filled the room. It was evident that Daenerys had touched down outside and was joining her group. Catelyn could feel a slight sweat at her brow in anticipation for what was to come.

She did not fear the Targaryen nor her allies. The thought of seeing Petyr sent bile into Catelyn’s throat, but it was from hate, not worry.

In truth, it was the dragons that Catelyn feared. Bran felt confident that he could lure in Rhaegal and Viserion, but he was uncertain how Drogon would react to his brothers’ behavior.

As the enemy entered the throne room, the atmosphere shifted from anticipation to determination. Roughly twenty Unsullied marched behind Daenerys, Euron, and Petyr. A woman stood to the young Targaryen’s left as Euron and Littlefinger stood at her right.

When Catelyn’s eyes locked on Petyr, she felt rage consume her. For his part, Petyr remained evasive in his acknowledgement of Catelyn’s presence. It was unclear to Catelyn if he felt guilt or pleasure in his betrayal.

At Daenerys’ approach, Catelyn appraised the Targaryen. She was a beautiful, young woman with silver hair and purple eyes. Her body was petite yet curvy, but that was where the beuty ended and madness began.

Daenerys had a large, jagged scar down her left cheek. Her right ear had been torn off and her neck had a large gash across it. Judging by the way the woman walked, it was evident that some injury had been sustained to her right leg.

The young woman at Daenerys’ side spoke when they came to a halt before the small council.

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals, and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”

Jaime snorted from his place on the throne. “Well I’m sitting, but I thank you for the _information_.”

Catelyn groaned slightly before speaking at Jaime’s side. “Welcome to King’s Landing, Lady Daenerys. You stand before King Jaime of House Lannister, first of his name, rightful King of the Andals and the First Men, by way of conquest. Protector of the Seven Kingdoms from mad sovereigns… such as Aerys.”

Glancing to Jaime, Catelyn could see him biting the inside of his cheek. She knew that he would like the last bit about Aerys, but she also knew that it would serve to distract Daenerys from her true objective. Discussing the crown.

As expected, Daenerys’ lips curled in anger and her eyes darted to Jaime. When she spoke, there was a wheezing sound and it seemed that Daenerys had to yell just to be heard.

“As if it was not enough for my father’s murderer to sit on the throne, he puts an insolent woman as his announcer.”

Jaime leaned forward slightly; his eyes narrowed in consideration. “Announcer? Is that who the woman at your side is? I can assure you, the woman at my side is no announcer. She is my Hand.”

At Jaime’s words, Baelish’s eyes darted to Catelyn’s for the first time. They both bore the pin of the Hand at their breast. The sight amused Catelyn.

_I’ll beat him at this game too._

Daenerys raised a challenging brow at Jaime. The moved tugged awkwardly at her scarred face. “I had not expected someone such as yourself to appoint a woman as Hand. You strike me as someone of a _different_ character.”

Catelyn observed the snide smile tugging at Jaime’s lips. She sighed inwardly and braced herself. It was a look she knew all too well. The sight of it sent her back to Robb’s encampment. All Jaime was missing was the post he was once chained to.

_Gods. Here we go._

“I apologize for betraying your sparkling image of me. Such a shame. We’ve known each other so _intimately_ over the years. In truth, I hadn’t thought to qualify my council members based on what exists between their legs. A man… a woman… sometimes it Varys.”

Snickers erupted throughout the room and Catelyn had to look to her feet to hide the laughter threatening to escape her lips. She didn’t need to see Varys eyes roll to know that their official Master of Whisperers was as unimpressed by Jaime as Catelyn had been in their earliest acquaintance.

Once she collected herself, Catelyn looked up to appraise Daenerys. The young woman stood and stared ahead impassively as Bran might. Her eyes narrowed as she looked to Varys.

“Traitor. You bent the knee. You swore off the usurpers in Westeros. Now look at you. You went scurrying back at the first test.”

Varys’ head tilted slightly in consideration. He spoke calmly to the young woman before him. “For years I worked tirelessly with others across the Narrow Sea to ensure your health and safety. I believed you would make a good queen, not because you were entitled to it, but because you would rule for the people. I was wrong. I then returned home to find that the person _now_ occupying the throne rules for the people and not for his own selfish machinations. I gladly bend the knee to King Jaime.”

The young woman’s eyes drifted back to Jaime. She snarled before addressing him once more.

“For years I considered what I might say to the man who broke his vows and stabbed his king, my father, in the back. Fortunately for me, I doubt there will be much to say. I prefer to take your head. If you abdicate now in recognition of my birthright, I may consider sparing your life. If you refuse, I will rain down fire and blood on you and your armies. I’ll start with that insolent woman at your side.”

Jaime stood to full height and spoke through gritted teeth. “If you touch my Hand, I will finish the job that blade did at your neck. If you attempt to torch my armies with those beasts, I will fire arrows throw their heads and watch as their carcasses rot outside the city gates. As to your birthright, you are entitled to little more than your life. I fail to see what it has to do with the throne.”

Daenerys screamed. The effort sent a loud gurgling sound into her mouth. “It has everything to do with the throne! I am the last dragon! It is my throne.”

Jaime hummed in feigned confusion. He looked to the throne at his back. “Strange. It seems to be my ass that sits on it. I hardly understand all the fuss over it. It’s terribly uncomfortable. Leave it to a bloody Targaryen to make a chair out of swords. We should have known from the start that your House was not of sound mind to rule.”

The young woman’s hand balled into fists at her side. Before she could speak, Baelish placed a calming hand at her forearm.

“Your Grace, if I may speak to the usurper on your behalf.”

Catelyn narrowed her eyes at the man she once considered a friend. The man she once thought a second brother. With a cold nod of approval from Daenerys, Baelish looked to them. His eyes danced between the Jaime and Catelyn before settling on Catelyn.

“Cat…”

“You will address her as Lady Hand or Lady Stark.” Jaime’s tone was cool as he glared down at Baelish.

With a raised brow, Baelish smirked at Jaime.

“My apologies. Lady Stark, your chosen king has no claim to the throne. He broke his vows and killed his king. By all rights, he should be dead. As if his treason wasn’t enough, he cuckolded his chosen king by laying with his own sister. After his bastards died, he killed her too. It seems his only claim is kingslyaing. His only talent is treason.”

Catelyn could feel the rage radiating off Jaime. Placing a hand on Jaime’s shoulder, Catelyn captured his attention and shook her head. Taking a step in front of Jaime, Catelyn locked eyes with Petyr.

“Need I remind you that you are addressing your king. Your king, who your liege lord has pledged fealty to.”

Taking pause, Catelyn watched as Baelish’s brow rose in question. He was unaware that Robin had traveled to the city and bent the knee, reaffirming the Vale’s loyalty to the crown.

The Vale had not been positioned among the Westerosi forces. As requested by Robin at Jaime’s behest, the Vale marched behind the Unsullied. They were prepared to slaughter the dragon queen’s men at a moment’s notice.

Continuing, Catelyn’s tone grew bolder.

“Ser Jaime saved the city from the madman whose mad daughter now stands beside you. Aerys sought to bathe all of King’s Landing in wildfire. When Queen Cersei threatened the same, Ser Jaime saved the city from falling a second time. It seems his talent is _protecting_ the realm. Protecting it from madness. House Targaryen was overthrown. Just as Aegon conquered the Seven Kingdoms, so too did King Robert, and now our king, King Jaime. If Lady Daenerys wants the crown, she’ll need to do far more than ask for it. We will not let another unfit ruler sit on the Iron Throne.”

It was then that Catelyn could see the desperation on Baelish’s face. He was trying to plead to Catelyn more than appeal to Jaime.

“Cat…”

“Lady Stark!” Jaime’s patience was wearing thin. Catelyn’s eyes were a warning to Baelish.

“I warn you Petyr. Our king is not mad, but he lacks patience.”

Putting up a defensive hand Baelish spoke again.

“You cannot win this war. Queen Daenerys…”

“ _Lady_ Daenerys.” Again, Jaime interrupted Baelish. His eyes were deadly as he glared at Littlefinger.

“She is my queen. You are not my king.” Littlefinger’s tone was calm but pointed. A challenge danced in his eyes as he looked to Jaime. Tilting up her chin, Catelyn spoke once more to Baelish.

“I’m glad you found a home in Essos considering you have been unseated in Westeros. You and my treasonous sister have been stripped of your lands and titles. As I said, Lord Robin Arryn has bent the knee to _his_ king. King Jaime.”

Baelish smirked at Catelyn. “Does the Vale know that? Robin is but a boy. Their army follows my command and they stand beside Queen Daenerys’ forces. 

A wolfish smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “Beside or behind? I can’t recall where it was that we told them to stand when they slaughter her men.”

It was the first emotion that Catelyn saw on Daenerys’ face other than rage. The woman turned to Baelish in shock and looked at him with narrowed eyes. She spoke in hushed tones before looking to Jaime and Catelyn.

“It sounds to me that you’ve made your decision. You chose fire and blood. I will give it to you.”


	10. "Don’t touch my husband"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne steals a dragon and the battle begins.

“I don’t think he wants to fly. He seems quite content eating that sheep.”

Brienne looked down at Bran who sat impassively in his wheelchair watching Viserion eat his seventh sheep since landing. With a slight sigh and shrug, Bran continued look at the shredded sheep as he spoke.

“He’ll fly when the threat is felt.”

_When the threat is felt? What threat? Wasn’t this meant to be non-threatening bonding time._

Bran slowly looked to Jon who was climbing atop Rhaegal. Bran had successfully warged and brought each dragon to the dragonpit. It had been Viserion first. At his brother’s approach, Rhaegal had circled overhead curiously. Then Bran warged once more and brought his brother to the ground.

The dragons barely fit in the pit. Every step sent massive stones scattering to the ground below. Swirls of dust blanketed the area as the dragon’s movement disrupted the soil.

Glancing to Bronn, Brienne bit back a laugh at the man’s facial expression. He appeared to be equal parts amazed and horrified as the beasts snacked on the frantic sheep below.

_This is ridiculous._

Brienne grabbed the hilt of Oathkeeper. It had become an anxious habit during situations in which Brienne felt lack of control. This was one such moment.

From across the pit, Jon’s uncertain voice echoed off the dilapidated walls. “So uh… Bran. What was I supposed to say when this thing needs to fly?”

Jon’s dragon was happily devouring another sheep as Bran looked across the pit to Jon. The young man spoke in a barely audible tone as he glanced calmly at Jon. 

“Sovetes.”

“What? Sovetes?” At Jon’s words, Rhaegal pulled up his head and he cried out. The dragon’s wings began to flap and stirrup more dust from the ground.

Brienne’s eyes went wide as she watched Jon desperately cling to the dragon. “Woah! Seven hells! I didn’t mean it. Don’t sovetes!”

The great beast lifted into the sky. Brienne felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched a panicked Jon hold tightly to Rhaegal. At his brother’s abrupt departure, Viserion began to stomp around. Any living sheep that had been cowering in the corners of the pit ran to exit via the space where Rhaegal previously blocked their path.

A slight fear entered Brienne as she held tightly to Viserion. From below, Bran smiled and nodded at Brienne.

“Your turn.”

Brienne’s eyes darted nervously from Bran to Viserion’s snout as the dragon tore another piece of flesh from the poor sheep trapped below it’s talons. The memory of Ser Goodwin forcing Brienne to aid the butcher on Tarth to harden her heart to loss of life came rushing back to her.

_Poor little sheep._

“I prefer to bond from the ground, thank you.”

Bran shook his head. “I don’t think there will be time for that. The treaty went as well as expected.”

_Liar. You’ve been here the entire time. I’ve watched your eyes and I’ve yet to see their whites._

“They could still be enjoying a lovely conversation. You truly don’t know that.”

Shaking his head, Bran hummed slightly. “No, it’s gone to shit.”

“How do you even know that?” Brienne scoffed as she looked to Bran. His eyes glanced to the sky as he spoke with a hint of amusement.

“Well Daenerys is atop Drogon once more, so it’s safe to say the conversation is over.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide, and she looked up from he perch atop Viserion. As Bran stated, Daenerys was now flying over the city on Drogon’s back and headed in the direction of her army.

_Shit._

Shouts from the archers positioned around the city’s battlements called out to signal the start of war. Their plan had been simple.

Distract Daenerys, Euron, and Littlefinger inside the Keep. Borrow the two smaller dragons indefinitely. Signal the Vale to begin the attack on the Unsullied and Second Sons as the rest of the Seven Kingdoms pressed forward. Take down Daenerys or Drogon.

By keeping the fighting outside the city gates, they hoped to avoid endangering the people of King’s Landing. Then the part of their plan came into play that Jaime was not privy to. Jon and Brienne would direct their dragons to engage Drogon form the skies.

They each had a bow and quiver slung over their backs to try and fell Daenerys. If they could not safely take aim without risking their own lives, they would instead have the smaller dragons distract their brother by keeping Drogon from breathing fire onto the men below.

Suddenly, Bran’s tone was slightly anxious as his voice cut through her thoughts.

“Brienne. You need to move now. She’s coming for Viserion.”

In a panic, Brienne looked over her shoulder. Daenerys had circled back around and was moving rapidly towards them.

“Sovetes! Sovetes! Sovetes!”

Holding on tightly, Brienne pressed her body as close to Viserion as the swell at her belly would allow. She felt the great beast begin to lift from the ground. As air began to blow back her hair, Brienne heard Bronn curse from the ground.

Looking down, she saw Bronn take aim at something just over her shoulder. Glancing back, Brienne’s eyes went wide at the sight of Drogon and Daenerys moving quickly at her. A loud snap from the ground echoed throughout the pit. An arrow went whizzing by Brienne and took aim at Drogon.

The dragon dove right to avoid the threat. Narrowly missing the beast’s gullet, the arrow instead cut through its wing. With a shrill cry, Drogon faltered as it tried to steady itself. The threat was temporarily removed as Drogon circled away from the pit. Brienne held tight to Viserion as they flew over the pit and towards the city gates.

Battle cries drifted through the air as the armies clashed with one another. As expected, the Vale had turned on the dragon queen’s army. Before her men could move to support their rear lines, Westeros’s forces had begun to attack from the front. 

It should be an easy victory. In the distance, Brienne saw Jon and Rhaegal torching the Greyjoy fleet. A small smile spread across Brienne’s face until she saw Daenerys moving to engage Jon.

Directing Viserion around, Brienne held on tight as the dragon moved forward at an astounding rate.

_Gods. I hope bonding with my babe is less dramatic than this._

As they flew over the Keep, Brienne saw the Kingsguard, Gold Cloaks, and Jaime running outside to finish killing off the Unsullied that had accompanied Daenerys into the Keep. As Viserion flew low over the Keep, Brienne could see Jaime engaging a man she assumed to be Euron.

At Jaime’s side, the Blackfish was trying to shove Jaime out of the way as the Kingsguard rushed forward to protect their king. Viserion cried out and Brienne could scarcely make out Jaime’s panicked expression as he looked to the skies and caught sight of her.

_He’s going to be most displeased._

Brienne saw Jaime run towards the battlements and bark orders at the men. Glancing down, Brienne observed the men aiming one of ballista at Drogon. Panic gripped Brienne as she saw fire pouring from the dragon’s mouth on its way to engage Jon and Rhaegal.

Screams from the city below filled the air as the dragon passed over Fishmonger’s Square, the mud gate, and the harbor.

_Faster! Faster!_

It was as though the dragon could hear Brienne’s thoughts. Viserion seemed to surge forward faster as the dragon quickly reached his brother’s backside. Viserion’s talons ripped into Drogon’s back, tearing at the beast’s scales.

Blood poured down onto the water below as a shrill cry escaped Drogon’s jaw. Brienne glanced down slightly, and her eyes locked on Daenerys. Rage was writ across the Targaryen’s face.

_I need to kill her. Seven hells. How am I supposed to use a bloody bow and arrow while holding onto a dragon?_

Brienne took one hand off the dragon to test her ability to hold on with only one. She considered throwing a dagger at Daenerys if she could hold steady.

With the two dragons engaged at such an incredible height and speed, it was too much to hold on one-handed. A horrible conflict waged war inside Brienne. Kill Daenerys to save the innocents below, or hold on tightly to save the innocent in her womb.

Cursing inwardly, Brienne crouched low as Drogon rounded on Viserion. Hers was the smaller dragon and Brienne worried they wouldn’t stand a chance. The dragons came together midair. Their talons shredded at one another’s bellies and necks as more cries of pain filled the air.

In the distance, Brienne could see Rhaegal rapidly approaching. The dragon grabbed onto Drogon’s backside and ripped at his body. Rounding on his smaller brother, Drogon caught hold of Rhaegal’s neck in his maw and shook vigorously.

Abruptly, an arrow flew at Drogon from one of the ballistae. Daenerys must have seen the threat, as she directed her dragon away quickly.

The largest dragon released its brother, and Brienne watched helplessly as Rhaegal began to plummet backwards towards the water below. Jon was now hanging upside down and struggling to hold on. Rhaegal was dropping quickly at an astounding rate and Brienne gasped at the sight.

Brienne urged Viserion towards Rhaegal and Jon. Righting itself just in time, Rhaegal slowed his fall and came to a stop just above the bay, but Jon lost his grip and fell in.

With his rider gone, Rhaegal cried out and slowly lifted into the sky just as Jon surfaced. It was evident that the dragon was too injured to continue fighting as it barely made its way to the shoreline.

Citizens ran in fear as Rhaegal cried out and flopped to the ground at the edge of the bay. Seeing that Jon was alright, Brienne turned her attention back to Drogon. The dragon had taken off towards the Keep. Another stream of fire poured down onto the city below.

Urging Viserion forward, Brienne watched in horror as Drogon took aim at the battlements. Soldiers went running for cover as the dragon approached. In the distance, one person ran towards Drogon.

_Jaime. Seven hells! What is he doing!?_

Jaime took aim with one of the abandoned ballista. As Brienne prayed to the Seven that Viserion could catch up in time, she observed Drogon’s head pull back slightly as it prepared to breathe fire directly onto Jaime.

The Kingsguard were sprinting down the battlement to get to Jaime, but the dragon’s fiery breath would beat them there. Before Drogon could unleash the seven hells from his gullet, Jaime fired the massive arrow. It was a direct hit that cut into the dragon’s throat.

With a violent cry, Drogon went crashing into the battlement and Brienne screamed in fear. The dragon scrambled to grab hold of the battlements edge as massive piles of stone and the ballista fell away.

Drogon’s momentum propelled him forward; the great beast’s body violently knocking into Jaime. As Drogon scrambled further down the battlement and cried out in pain, it passed over Jaime’s motionless body.

The Kingsguard were cut off from their king as they desperately tried hacking away at the dragon. Flames spewed from the gap in Drogon’s neck as Brynden barked orders at his men.

Then Brynden’s eyes went wide as he saw Viserion coming in fast behind Drogon. The smaller dragon landed hard just passed the edge of the battlement. Brienne jumped off his backside and landed on the shaky stonework roughly twenty feet from Jaime.

Jaime was alive, but little more than pained groans escaped his lips. Viserion staggered forward to engage his brother.

The massive frames of the two dragons continued to block the path of the Kingsguard, but Brienne could see Ser Brynden and his men desperately trying to get under the dueling limbs of the dragons.

Then a figure emerged from beneath one of Viserion’s flapping wings. Just a few feet away, rage personified stormed towards Jaime with a dagger in hand.

“Kingslayer!” Daenerys called out as she raised the blade high. 

“Jaime!” Brienne’s call was hardly registered by either Daenerys or Jaime.

Blood coated the top of Jaime’s head as he tried to shake the fog inflicted by the dragon’s impact. He slowly moved to his knees; not realizing the threat. Running towards him, Brienne reached for her bow.

Grabbing the bow and pulling it from over her head, Brienne reached for an arrow from her quiver. Panic gripped Brienne as she realized she only had one. The rest had likely fallen out during flight.

Daenerys was just about to reach Jaime, but Brienne was the warrior incarnate while Daenerys was merely a madwoman. Every bow lesson on Tarth flooded back to Brienne. It was hardly the first time she needed to aim true while both she and her target were in motion.

With the arrow nocked, Brienne screamed to the dragon queen as she took aim and let the arrow fly.

“Daenerys! Don’t touch my husband!” 


	11. “The king gained a queen”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the battle, Jaime hears some unpleasant news.

“Don’t touch my husband!”

Brienne’s voice shook any remaining fog from Jaime’s mind. Only moments earlier, a dragon had come crashing straight into Jaime as he stood at the edge of the battlement near the ballista.

From his knees, Jaime glanced up into the eyes of Daenerys. The eyes of Aerys.

Before the dragon queen’s blade could cut across his throat, an arrow pierced her neck. Daenerys’ eyes went wide as the arrow flew through her throat and stuck out the other side of her neck.

The force of the arrow’s hit was so strong that it nearly passed clear through. Only the fletching stuck out from the front of Daenerys’ neck. It was a clear indication of how well the arrow was placed.

Daenerys eyes went wide in shock as a spluttering sound pushed her lips. The sound reminded Jaime of Cersei’s death. He felt frozen in place as he stared at the arrow piercing Daenerys’ throat.

The arrow’s entry point was just at the scar from her first death. As the dragon queen took a step backwards, the blade fell from her hand. Her eyes met Jaime’s in shock before looking over his shoulder.

Glancing back, Jaime saw Brienne slowly lower the bow. Her eyes were a sapphire storm as her hair blew lightly in the wind.

“Wench.” Her name was both a prayer and a whisper at Jaime’s lips. Moving to his feet, Jaime shakily stumbled towards her.

Brienne ran to him; their bodies colliding into one another. Their little cub pressed safely between them and Jaime felt as though he could breathe again.

The image of Brienne flying on a dragon overhead came back to him. It had been an overwhelming fear and one he never wished to experience again.

At his back, the cries of the dragons captured his attention. Drogon had pushed passed his brother and grabbed Daenerys. The dragon stumbled off with the battlements with the dead Targaryen firmly secured in his talons.

Viserion cried out in a mix of anger and pain. Blood dripped from the dragon’s wounds as it tried to fly off, but only made is so far as the gardens before falling to its belly in pain.

The Kingsguard raced to their side and Brynden immediately began reprimanding Jaime. “Gods damnit your Grace! I told you _not_ to run to that bloody ballista! We have soldiers for that!”

“The soldiers who ran the opposite direction!?” Jaime snapped back at his Lord Commander. It had been chaos atop the battlements. After felling the Unsullied and Euron, the Kingsguard had ensured Baelish and the young woman accompanying Daenerys were seen to the cells.

Ser Brynden, half the Kingsguard, and Ser Addam had stood beside Jaime in shock as the dragons waged war in the distance over the harbor.

Jaime was ranting about Brienne’s and Jon’s decision to participate in the battle. The agreement had been for them to take the dragons to Tarth, but it seemed he was the only one to believe that part of the plan.

Addam had snorted at Jaime’s side. “You think that wife of yours was going to fly to Tarth and sit out from this battle. Besides, she and Jon had to ensure the bigger dragon didn’t torch the entire city!”

“Well it looks to me as though that’s happening anyway! That’s why we have the fucking ballistae, Addam! We were meant to kill one dragon and its queen!”

Before they could continue arguing, Jaime saw Addam’s eyes go wide. Following Addam’s eyeline, Jaime saw Drogon flying straight at the Keep. He was breathing fire onto sections of the city below, and the guards manning the ballista were fleeing from their position.

“Your Grace, you need to get inside the Keep. Now!” Ser Brynden called for the Kingsguard to escort Jaime to his room, but without so much as a word, Jaime took off running for the ballista. He screamed at the fleeing soldiers to slow the Kingsguard’s progress at his back.

That was when he came much closer to a dragon than he had ever cared to. When he successfully hit Drogon in the neck with an arrow, Jaime smiled triumphantly before realizing the danger. There was no stopping the beast’s momentum. He tried to move to the side, but the dragon’s massive wing clipped Jaime and sent him flying backwards violently into the side of the battlement.

Now as Jaime stood holding Brienne in his arms, he watched in amusement as Brynden threw his hands in the air and grunted in frustration. “I’ve a queen who rides dragons and a king who wishes to fight one in single combat! How am I to work with this!?”

From over Brynden’s shoulder, Catelyn emerged from the Keep with Genna at her side. Her eyes were wide in horror as she took in the state of things. The battlement was in shambles with the end section missing where the ballista once stood. Small sections of the city were smoldering and Euron’s fleet was ablaze in the harbor. Two dragons lay wounded in different areas of the city.

Walking cautiously towards them, Catelyn called out. “What happened?”

Brynden dramatically raised his hands. “Talk to your king! See if he’ll listen to you! Her certainly doesn’t listen to me. The fool was run over by a bloody dragon! Our queen saw fit to join in on the fun too!”

Confusion lined Catelyn’s face as she looked to Jaime. Genna moved quickly and shoved Jaime to get to Brienne. “By the gods! Are you alright? Is the babe alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine, Aunt Genna. Don’t worry about me.” Jaime spoke sarcastically at Genna’s side as the older woman appraised Brienne.

“Oh hush up, Jaime! Only your head is bleeding and we all know its hard enough to withstand a blow or two.”

Jaime smirked at Brienne as Genna fussed over her. At his side, Catelyn studied his face. “What did you do? You were to stay in the Keep!”

“Well I was _at_ the Keep. I took a little stroll down the battlements to stretch my legs. That’s all.”

Catelyn’s hand turned Jaime’s face aggressively to the side as she huffed in annoyance. Blood trickled down his head and dipped below his jerkin. In truth, his head hurt quite a bit. Jaime knew he would have a proper bump on his head to show for his efforts.

With a loud scoff, Catelyn shook her head disapprovingly. Looking to Brienne, she sighed. “And you! What did you do?”

The rest of the Kingsguard milled about the battlements appraising the damage to the city below. In the distance, their army was moving back towards the gates after easily defeating the dragon queen’s army. It was the Hound’s voice that answered Catelyn’s question.

“That mad cunt fucked with the wrong husband. Got an arrow through the neck for her troubles.”

Jaime’s lips pressed into an amused smile at the Hound’s words. From the corner of his eye, he saw Brynden bite back a laugh and look away, clearly unwilling to concede any amusement at his king’s and queen’s behavior during the battle.

“Alright. Enough of this. Lets restore order to the city.” Brynden looked back at two of the Kingsguard. “Ser Bronn is at the dragonpit, so someone order the bloody Gold Cloaks to move into the city and tend to the people. Send someone to fetch Jon at the harbor.”

Addam chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary. He’s getting a ride back to the Keep.”

Jaime groaned at the sight of an approaching dragon with Jon Snow on its back.

“No! No! This isn’t a gods damned inn for dragons. Where is Bran!? They can’t stay here.”

At Jaime’s words, Brynden huffed and pointed at the incoming best. “You want to tell him that!? Go on. Tell him to find another inn, your Grace. See how far that gets you.”

“This isn’t a bloody horse that we can shove into a stable! Where are we to put it!? Do they just sleep out in the open? Do they require a little nest like an overgrown bird? I’m not certain we have enough sheep left to feed them.”

Brienne hummed at his side. “They ate a lot in the dragonpit. I lost track at a dozen.”

“A dozen! In one go!? Gods. This isn’t going to work. Brienne, can’t you tell it to go away until we need it again?”

At his question, Brienne looked to Jaime as though it was the most idiotic thing she had ever heard. “You want me to just tell it off?”

“You told me off quite a lot when we first met. Just like that.”

Before they could continue bickering, Rhaegal landed with a shrill cry at the crest of Aegon’s Hill. A waterlogged Jon climbed down from the dragon’s back and patted its neck. After a weary Jon left, the dragon moved towards the gardens to lay near Viserion.

Catelyn ran to greet Jon as relief filled her face. It was a sentiment that Jaime could relate to as he glanced at Brienne. Taking her hand in his, Jaime sighed and looked over the city. Fortunately, the dragon did limited damage, but there were bound to be lives lost.

“I suppose it could have gone worse.”

Brienne hummed in consideration and turned in the direction of the dragonpit. “I wonder if Drogon can survive those injuries. It had a giant arrow in its neck.”

Tugging Brienne towards the Keep, Jaime felt a more pronounced throbbing in his head as the adrenaline wore off. He wanted little more than to fall into bed with Brienne and hold her close. At their backs, Genna grumbled.

“Gods damned dragons. What a mess. You two should go see Grand Maester Luwin. Your head is bleeding all over, Jaime.”

The Hound and Ser Brynden followed them inside as Jaime made his way to the maester. When they arrived, Luwin noted the blood at Jaime’s head and his brows rose in greeting. “Your Grace, what happened?”

“I tripped.”

Brynden grunted in annoyance. “Our king decided to stand in front of an incoming dragon. He’s lucky to be bleeding rather than ash floating in the wind.”

Luwin’s eyes went wide as he guided Jaime to his exam table. He hummed as he assessed the wound at Jaime’s head. “You’ll need a few stitches. This wound is easily treated, though I would recommend you avoid fighting dragons in the future.”

Jaime snorted and looked to Brienne teasingly. “Do you hear that, wench? No fighting with me. That also means no more flying about on dragons.”

At Jaime’s words, Luwin’s brows furrowed. “Flying on dragons? What’s this about?”

Brynden crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He raised a brow at Brienne and huffed. “Our queen was more than successful in bonding with one of the dragons. She decided to participate in a dragon battle over the bloody harbor before jumping off its back and onto the battlement.”

As he worked to stitch Jaime’s head, Luwin took pause and gasped. “My queen! I do not recommend such activities in your state.”

Jaime chuckled at the look on Brienne’s face. Stilling hands kept Jaime’s head from shaking as Luwin reprimanded him.

“Hold still, your Grace. I would ask that you and the queen take rest when I’m done with this head of yours. You’re likely to have a fierce headache and she should take it easy after such physical exertion.”

Biting back another laugh, Jaime met Brienne’s indignant scowl. He was thrilled to curl up beside her in bed, and now the Grand Maester was demanding it, Jaime knew it would happen.

After Luwin finished treating Jaime, he and Brienne made their way upstairs to take rest. Their bed had never looked better. Nuzzling his head into Brienne’s neck, Jaime sighed and held the swell of her belly with his flesh hand.

“I did not like that, wench. You could have been hurt or killed.”

Brienne scoffed as she lay on her back, staring defiantly at the ceiling. “Yes, well I could say the same for you. Who charges at a dragon when everyone else is fleeing?”

“Apologies, but I was a bit overwhelmed at the sight of my pregnant wife on the back of another dragon. A dragon mind you, that was actively fighting with a much larger dragon and a madwoman on its…”

A nudge at Jaime’s hand caught his attention. Sitting upright, Jaime kept his hand pressed to Brienne’s belly; his eyes wide in shock. “Wench! I felt something.”

“You felt that? Gods ever since I got on that dragon, the babe has been going nuts.”

Another movement caught Jaime’s attention and a wide smile spread across his face. “My babe! Wench! That’s my babe in there! Even she wants you to tell that dragon to fuck off.”

Jaime pressed his cheek against the swell of Brienne’s belly. “Hello little lady knight! Can you hear me in there? It’s your favorite parent. The one not so absurd as to ride about on ugly, flying lizards.”

Brienne scoffed and began to mutter something, but Jaime couldn’t be bothered. His little one was still move about. Placing delicate kisses to Brienne’s belly, Jaime kept prattling on to their babe. Soon, sleep found them both as Jaime’s head lay just above Brienne’s belly and his hand pressed warm to their babe within.

Jaime didn’t know for how long they had been asleep, but a light knock at the door shook him from sleep. Judging by the lack of light in the room, Jaime knew it to be late. He looked to Brienne’s sleeping form and smiled before standing up.

After pulling the silks over Brienne, Jaime yawned and walked to the door. From over the balcony, the sound of dragons snorting in sleep wafted into the room.

_Seven hells. This has to be the worst pet ever._

Jaime’s head was pounding with every step he took. In response to the pain, Jaime brought his hand to his temple before grabbing the door handle. As the door creaked open, Jaime was surprised to find himself looking down at Bran.

“What’s the matter? Are the crown’s new, unwanted pets blocking your path to the godswood?”

Bran’s face was devoid of any mirth as he met Jaime’s eyes. “We have a slight problem.”

“Gods, what now? I’m tired and my head hurts. I have sections of the city still smoldering and two dragons pissing and moaning in the courtyard.”

An audible sigh escaped Bran’s lips. “As I warned, dragons are incredibly intelligent. More so than I gave them credit for. Drogon took his mother to the closest place she could be raised. He took her north of the wall. The king gained a queen.”


	12. “Did he call you wench”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The council learns more of what happened and what they face. One of the prisoners faces the king, queen, and Hand.

“I’m sorry, but are you saying the Night King has brought her back to life _again_?” Genna looked inquisitively at Bran. Her eyes darted to those among them as though anyone could provide the answer.

Bran shook his head in refute. “Well, not _yet_ , but he is going to when he finds their bodies. Unfortunately, I had not considered the dragon would do that. He was weak from injury and succumbed to his wounds not long after passing over the Wall. The Night King _will_ raise them both.”

All Catelyn could do was bury her face in her hands and groan.

_Gods help us. We gave the creature a dragon to attack us with._

A bitter laugh pushed passed Jaime’s lips as his voice cut through Catelyn’s thoughts. “Well good luck to the Night King! Daenerys will likely murder him for his crown too. Imagine that woman in your ear all day. Can the dead wish for death?”

With a heavy sigh, Bran spoke in a barely audible voice. “I’m sorry this came to pass, but at least we have two dragons to their one.”

Jaime scoffed and crossed his arms. Sarcasm dripped from his tone. “Well perfect. We gave the Night King some dragonfire to play with, but the good news is we have double the amount. This can’t possibly get any worse.”

Catelyn rung her hands in frustration. “This won’t do us any good. We need to prepare for war. I fear this foe will not fall to us so easily.”

“I knew this was a terrible idea.” Brynden’s gruff voice filled the room as the rest of the small council sat in bewildered silence. “How long do we have, Bran?”

“It depends on how long it takes the Night King to find their bodies. It could be days or moons before he raises her. Once he does, he has a way in. By the time they pass the wall, it will likely take them five moons before they reach King’s Landing. They’re much slower moving than a living army.”

Catelyn glanced to Jaime to appraise his reaction. If the Night King found the bodies soon, his army of wights would be upon them not long after Brienne delivered the babe. He seemed to have the same thought as his face fell. Taking a deep breath, Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose.

“How many among them?”

Catelyn glanced at Bran. His expression was answer enough. Too many.

“From what I’ve seen, over 100,000. They’ll add to their numbers as they march south.”

Jaime grimaced at the information. “Can we use the dragons we have to burn the body of the other one before he gets to it?”

Shaking his head, Bran shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t believe their fire is strong enough to burn through their brother’s scales. It’s too great of a risk if the Night King is close. He may claim another dragon.”

To Catelyn’s right, Addam tapped his fingers on the wooden table in the small council’s chambers. “So we just sit here praying to the Seven that the creature doesn’t find the ultimate weapon?”

The Blackfish snorted from down the table. “Bloody dragons. I remember the days when a man’s enemy held a spear or sword in hand. It was dull and I miss it terribly.”

“Well how do we win, Bran?” At Jaime’s question, all eyes landed on Bran once more.

“We need to mine dragonglass. There is an abundance of it at Dragonstone and it can be fashioned into weapons. Beyond dragonglass, only fire and valyrian steel can kill a wight or White Walker.”

Catelyn listened as the council began to discuss the matter. They formed a war council comprised of two groups. The first group was to be led by Jaime and would develop battleplans for the war to come.

The second group was to be led by Genna and would plan for the people of the Seven Kingdoms. They would seek to remove as many people as they could from death’s path.

A missive was sent to Theon at Winterfell which ordered the evacuation of the North to the southernmost kingdoms. Give his betrothed’s pregnant state, Theon was instructed to move to the Iron Islands and await further instruction.

Before breaking for the day, Addam smirked at Catelyn. “I do believe we have one final matter to attend to. What of our new guests?”

Not an hour later, the young woman who had accompanied Daenerys was led into the throne room. Catelyn stood at the base of the stairs with Jaime and Brienne to her left. The Kingsguard lined the room as the young woman was brought before them.

Offering a sympathetic smile to the woman, Catelyn spoke inquisitively. “What is your name?”

Angry eyes met hers as the woman considered whether to respond. “Missandei.”

“Missandei, welcome. I regret to inform you, but your queen lost the battle. Our army has successfully _defended_ us from invasion.”

Catelyn wished to stress that they acted in self-defense. They had little fear of repercussion from the woman before them as it was evident that she was not a fighter. Still, they needed her to understand why her allies were dead.

“What of our army? How many did you take prisoner?”

Jaime snorted at Catelyn’s side. “We took prisoner all those who willingly put down their weapons. That is to say… we have no prisoners other than yourself and that rat of a man you know as Petyr Baelish.”

Missandei flinched at the words. Tears sparkled in her eyes, but she tilted her chin up. “Then take my head too.”

Catelyn glanced to Jaime and Brienne who looked equally confused. It was Brienne who spoke. “Why would we do that?”

“I am your enemy.”

Jaime raised an amused brow at Missandei. “Do you intend to kill us then?”

Shock filled the young woman’s eyes as she shook her head. “No. I’m from Naath. We are a peaceful people.”

Jaime shrugged as though the matter simple. “Then why would we kill you?”

“That’s what all you warriors do. That’s what has always been done. Even Queen Daenerys killed her enemies.”

Catelyn sighed and shook her head. “We are not Daenerys. If our enemies surrender, we do not kill them. I won’t lie to you, Westeros is not a peaceful place. There is injustice here as there is elsewhere, but under King Jaime’s rule, we would not abide by killing an innocent or surrendered enemy.”

Missandei’s eyes darted suspiciously to Jaime. “You killed her father. She said that you were sworn to protect him.”

“If Daenerys threatened to kill innocent men, women, and children, would you have let her?”

At Jaime’s question, Missandei’s brows furrowed in confusion. “She wouldn’t do such a thing. Her objective was to free people from tyranny. She would not harm innocents.”

Jaime’s hand extended to the window where plumes of smoke could still be seen stretching into the sky. “Look there. Do you see that smoke? Your queen unleashed her dragon on our city. She killed our people. Not our soldiers. Our people. _Innocents_. This morning we walked through the city and saw charred bodies of babes and children. Daenerys did that.”

Missandei’s face fell at the words. She shook her head before looking back to them. “She wasn’t like that _before_. Something happened when the red priestess brought her back. She was a good woman.”

Jaime shrugged as if it mattered little. “Maybe she was. Maybe she wasn’t. All I know is that she came across the Narrow Sea, threatened our realm, and killed our people. You’ll have to forgive me for stopping her father from doing the same.”

At his words, Missandei’s eyes went wide. “It’s true then? What Varys told her? He said that her father was mad.”

Jaime nodded. “A slight understatement, but yes.”

A momentary silence hung heavy in the room. Jaime motioned to one of the guards to remove Missandei’s chains. Extending his hand to Missandei, Jaime offered her ample coin. “Go on then. Take this to the harbor. This will take you to Naath or anywhere else you wish to go.”

Taking the coin in hand, Missandei studied it for a moment before looking to Jaime. “Do you have slaves in Westeros?”

The question surprised Catelyn. She glanced at Jaime who looked equally perplexed. “No. We have no tolerance for such things.” Taking pause, Jaime’s face stretched into a sly smile. “We sin in other ways. Although if I’m being honest, I quite feel like a slave with Lady Stark at my side. She’s very bossy.”

Catelyn elbowed Jaime hard in the side. Studying the pair of them, Missandei’s brows furrowed. “Is she truly your Hand then?”

Raising his false hand, Jaime smiled. “Yes. That’s why she stands at my right.”

_Gods. Dolt._

With a huff of annoyance, Catelyn shook her head and grumbled at Jaime. A thought seemed to swirl in Missandei’s mind as she studied the coin in her hand.

“May I stay in the city? Perhaps I can help care for the people wounded by the attack.”

Catelyn glanced at Jaime and Brienne. The woman seemed peaceful enough and based on their facial expressions, the king and queen seemed to think the same.

With a shrug, Jaime’s eyes darted to Brienne before looking back at Missandei. “If you like. I should warn you, Westeros is in a bit of a peculiar situation. Another threat is coming from the north.”

Missandei nodded. “I’ve nowhere else to go in truth. I don’t know what remains of my island. My brothers were Unsullied and I have no one else. I can at least help others here.”

For the first time since Missandei was brought before them, Brienne spoke cautiously beside Jaime. “There’s an orphanage that I visit. They can always use some help and we had to bring more children there this morning whose parents died yesterday.”

A long sigh pushed passed Missandei’s lips as she took in Brienne’s words. “Thank you. I should like to help them. Perhaps I can teach them some skills. I speak many languages.”

Brienne snorted. “Yes, well do you speak valyrian? We have some rather large guests in the gardens who seem to only respond to it.”

Missandei’s eyes went wide. “The dragons are here? They would have followed Que… Lady Daenerys.”

Jaime chuckled. “Yes, well we made the mistake of befriending them yesterday and now they won’t leave.”

“I can help. They tend to do as they please, but they responded to Daenerys. She only rode one, but the others would follow Drogon. I’m just surprised they have taken to you.”

Catelyn smiled widely. “Yes, well Daenerys is not the only one with valyrian blood. Queen Brienne rode one. My kin rode the other.”

Missandei’s eyes went wide. “You rode them? You are of valyrian decent? How did you get them to bond with you?”

With a slight grimace, Brienne took a step forward. “Why don’t I bring you to them first? Its rather a long story. Then I can take you to the city after and introduce you to the man who runs the orphanage.”

The young woman nodded and extended her hand back to Jaime. The coins dangled between her fingers and she smiled. “Thank you. I will stay in Westeros and do my part to right the wrong.”

With a dismissive wave, Jaime shook his head. “Keep it. You’ll need lodging and that should give you enough to afford a year or two of rent. If you need more, just let my wife know. She is the one truly in charge. These women just yell at me all day.”

Catelyn rolled her eyes, but offered a warm smile to Missandei. As Brienne and Missandei began to walk away, Jaime called out to them. “Wench! Don’t forget the trial later. It’s going to be glorious.”

Brienne snorted and waved a hand as she continued walking towards the door. “Yes, yes. I’ll return soon enough.”

As the two young women reached the back of the room, Catelyn chuckled as she heard Missandei’s shocked voice. “Did he call you wench?”


	13. "Lady Lysa Baelish"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baelish's trial arrives.

Brienne sat in a chair to Jaime’s left, as he slouched on the throne with the crown tipped forward on his head. It rested just at his eyebrows and Brienne chuckled slightly at the sight. He detested wearing the crown and today was no different.

To Jaime’s right, another chair had been placed for Catelyn. Off to the side, seats had been set out for the rest of the small council.

At the base of the stairs, the empty accused’s box was placed just before the first and only row of trial attendees. Any wardens still present in King’s Landing sat among the Stark children and Robin Arryn. Beyond that, they elected to hold a closed court given what was to be discussed.

With a huff, Catelyn whispered to Jaime from her seat. “By the gods, Jaime. Sit up and fix your crown.”

Like a scolded child, Jaime righted himself and repositioned the crown atop his head.

“I’m hungry. I was told we would take supper first. Now I’m to lose my appetite before I satiate my empty belly.”

Before Catelyn could scold him further, the door to the throne room creaked open and brought them to attention. The Blackfish and the Hound pulled a squirming Littlefinger down the long aisle and to the accused’s box.

Ensuring his chains were secured to the stand, they took their place among the rest of the Kingsguard and a smattering of Gold Cloaks led by Bronn.

Standing from her chair, Catelyn took a step forward and glared at the man presented before them. “Petyr Baelish, you stand before the crown, accused of attempted regicide, treason, murder, conspiring to murder, and attempted murder. Do you admit to these crimes?

With a challenging smile, Littlefinger huffed a laugh. “I do not. I cannot commit regicide if the man before me is no king of mine. I cannot commit treason against him for the same reason. I know not of which murder or attempted murder I stand accused of, but I’m certain you’re to tell me that in due time.”

Brienne sighed heavily and glanced at Jaime and Catelyn. For his part, Jaime appeared amused by the proceedings. Catelyn looked disgusted. She tilted up her chin and looked down her nose at Petyr before clarifying.

“Let me speak more plainly. You are accused in the murder of my goodbrother, Jon of House Arryn. Lord Paramount of the Vale and Former Hand to King Robert. You are accused in the attempted murder of my son, Lord Brandon of House Stark. You are accused in conspiring with Cersei Lannister to murder my husband, Eddard of House Stark. Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, and Former Hand to King Robert. Do you admit to these crimes?”

Brienne watched as Baelish’s expression of amusement was replaced by shock. His eyes darted to Jaime and anger coated his tone.

“I don’t know what lies the Kingslayer has fed you, but I swear it to you, Cat…”

“Lady Stark! Hand of the King. If you call her ‘Cat’ one more time, I will have your tongue ripped out of your head.”

Jaime spoke through clenched teeth as Baelish appraised him. With a smirk, Littlefinger raised a challenging brow and responded to Jaime’s outburst.

“I have known Lady Stark for most of my life. She once described me as a brother. We have a deeper relationship than you can ever understand.”

Catelyn spoke confidently from her position near Jaime. “No. I _thought_ you like a brother to me. I was wrong. I have one brother by blood and one by choice. You are neither. Now answer the question.”

Littlefinger’s eyes darted between Catelyn and Jaime. His eyes misted slightly, which would have been imperceptible had Brienne not been watching him so intently. A hint of jealousy touched his tone as he met Catelyn’s eyes.

“You choose _him_ over me!? How can you say that after everything we’ve shared together? After everything we’ve experienced. After what you _gave_ to me. I’ll never forget that night you came to me at Riverrun. The night your betrothal to Brandon Stark was announced. Don’t you remember?”

Catelyn’s brows furrowed and her head tilted in question. The other attendees at the trial appeared as confused as Brienne felt.

_What is he on about?_

From the row where the Stark children sat, Brienne heard a small huff from Bran.

“You were drunk. My great-uncle had to drag you off to bed. That was Lysa who came to you. Not my mother.”

The Blackfish groaned in the corner of the room. He shook his head and looked to the floor as Baelish’s eyes narrowed at Catelyn. The Stark matriarch’s face contorted in a mix of repulsion and bewilderment.

“Gods Petyr. All these years you thought _that_. I would never. Now answer the question.”

At her words, Littlefinger’s lips curled into a snarl. “I am innocent in it all. All my life I’ve been a friend to you. A brother to you. Loyal to none but you! I tried to aid you and that dolt husband of yours. I tried to protect your daughter when I thought you dead. I called off the knights of the Vale when I realized you marched with the Kingslayer…”

“Shut your mouth, Petyr. He is your king and you will call him as such. King Jaime. Not Kingslayer. Only I can call him that… or his wife. Show his Grace respect, or I’ll whip you like the little shit you’ve always been.”

Brynden’s outburst caught Brienne by surprise. From the corner of her eye, Brienne saw Jaime sit back in surprise and clamp his jaw shut. A quiet “Oh” at his lips.

Catelyn’s tone remained cold as she continued staring at Petyr. “The crown calls its first witness. Lady Arya of House Stark, please come to the witness box.” Arya stood from her seat and passed by Baelish with a knowing smile. Turning to Brienne, Catelyn nodded. “Queen Brienne may begin the questioning.”

The room fell silent as all eyes landed on Brienne. A small smirk tugged at the corners of Arya’s lips as she awaited the first question. Taking a deep breath, Brienne met Arya’s eyes and smiled.

“When we were both taken prisoner at Winterfell, you spoke to me of overhearing Petyr Baelish’s plans to ally with the North and move against the Lannister brothers. What else did you hear?”

Arya looked to Littlefinger with narrowed eyes. “He was always scheming while I was there. His intent was to sell me to the Boltons to secure an alliance. In return, he wanted my sister, Lady Sansa _Lannister_. He, Lord Bolton, and Lady Olenna were trying to get House Lannister to destroy themselves from within. He told my aunt that it would be just as they planned when they sought to turn House Lannister against House Stark. How they schemed to kill Lord Arryn and lay blame on House Lannister.”

At her words, Baelish paled. He smiled nervously and looked back to Catelyn. “Cat, please! Arya is young and confu…”

“I warned you about using her proper titles!” Jaime stood from his seat, interrupting Littlefinger’s desperate plea. Before he could storm down the steps, Catelyn grabbed his forearm.

They spoke in hushed tones as Catelyn tried to calm Jaime. Urging him to sit back down, Brienne watched as Jaime sat in a huff. Catelyn’s hand briefly squeezed Jaime’s shoulder before she turned to face Littlefinger once more.

“Petyr, if you speak out of turn again, I can assure you that you’ll come closer to King Jaime’s fist than your face would prefer.”

Littlefinger’s body fell to the bench inside the accused’s box. Burying his head in his hands, the man appeared more defeated than the Mountain had when Brienne’s sword was thrust through his skull. Looking back at Brienne, the Stark matriarch nodded for her to continue.

“I have no further questions, Lady Arya.”

Arya nodded at Brienne and then looked to Jaime. A small laugh began to form at her lips as she raised a challenging brow.

She and Jaime had developed a close relationship over the past year. The young Stark had taken to calling Jaime ‘uncle’ in jest, and their banter was amusing to be around.

“Lady Arya, I regret that you had to endure captivity under this man’s charge. I fear we neglected to add the crime of endangering a child to Petyr’s list of offences.”

Arya smirked and glanced at Petyr. “I fear that I’ll never be able to take rest at night without hearing that awful grunting and screaming in my head.”

_Oh gods. How disgusting and inappropriate._

Catelyn’s groan of distaste mirrored Brienne’s own thoughts, but the smirk on Jaime’s face meant no good.

“Well I imagine it was quick enough that you weren’t tempted to jump through the moon door.”

Arya snickered and nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, blessedly quick indeed.”

Robin’s innocent voice piped up eagerly from the seats. “You heard it too!? It was awful. I thought an animal was dying, but luckily the sound went away quickly enough. It seemed to stop after Uncle Petyr left to meet the dragon lady.”

Bronn guffawed loudly from the side of the hall. "Ah fuck me! Which one was squealin'!?" 

_Seven hells. Don’t laugh. This is highly inappropriate._

Glancing to Jaime and Catelyn, he could see them both struggling to maintain their composure. Catelyn cleared her throat before speaking. “Thank you, Lady Arya. That will be all. The crown calls its next witness. Lord Royce.”

“What? I wasn’t done with my questions.” Jaime whined at Catelyn’s side, but she only shook her head.

“We get the picture.”

Arya moved giddily from the witness box as Lord Royce moved in. The older lord inclined his head at his king and queen before glancing to Littlefinger.

Leaning forward slightly, Catelyn began the questioning.

“Lord Royce, in your time at the Vale in service to my sister, Lysa Baelish, did you hear Petyr Baelish speak treasonously of our king, King Jaime?

The older man nodded as he answered. “Yes, my lady. When we received the request to attend the coronation, he began his plotting. He had already heard of the dragon queen across the sea, but he needed a fleet to appeal to her. It was when his sources received word of Euron’s effort to treat with Daenerys that he sought to ally with them. He knew that the Greyjoys would not be sufficient military strength to back her effort, so he offered the Vale in turn for a position as Hand. It is the true reason he sent me to pledge fealty on the crown’s behalf. He was busy with his new alliance.”

Baelish began to rant from his position in the accused’s box.

“You were not in the room with me and Lysa. You make assumptions based on her words to you during council meetings. It was Lysa who sought to ally with the Targaryen girl. She feared for Robin after what transpired at Winterfell.”

“Liar.”

Bran’s voice spoke calmly from behind Baelish. At his interruption, Brienne smirked knowing what was to come. This was not a game that Baelish could win.

Littlefinger appraised Bran and smirked. “Lord Bran, I’m pleased to see you are alive and well after your fall. By chance, do you recall who pushed you?”

Baelish cast a knowing eye at Jaime. The man had no proof, but likely heard rumors of it.

A slight smirk tugged at Bran’s lips. “No, but I do recall your dagger reaching for my neck while I lay abed recovering. You tried to frame Lord Tyrion Lannister, but it was you who sent the assassin.”

At Bran’s words, Baelish’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. He huffed a small laugh; his eyes darting to Jaime. “I imagine House Lannister told you as much to lay blame elsewhere.”

Bran’s response was cold and laced with warning. “I did warn you not to trust me.”

The words hit their mark as Baelish went ashen. He swallowed thickly and turned to Catelyn, Jaime, and Brienne. Their expressions were grave as they studied him. Bran had shared with them full account of Baelish’s crimes against House Lannister and House Stark before the trial.

Catelyn’s voice was filled with hate as she continued looking at Petyr while speaking to Lord Royce.

“I thank you for the honest testimony, Lord Royce. That will be all. The crown only has one more witness to call. Lord Bran Stark.”

As Jon brought Bran to the witness box, Brienne watched as Baelish leaned away and against the wooden railing. It seemed that he was beginning to sense something was off about the young man. Any confidence he had upon the trial’s commencement gave way to fear.

Jaime spoke to Bran while watching Littlefinger closely. “Lord Bran, why do you suppose Petyr Baelish tried to have you killed after your fall?”

Bran appraised Baelish before responding. His voice lifted loudly for all to hear. “He wished to sow seeds of discord between House Lannister and House Stark. It had been his objective from the beginning. After all, it was his idea to have my Aunt Lysa, formerly of House Arryn, kill her husband and place blame on House Lannister. He gave her the poison, and then encouraged her to send word to my mother knowing it would encourage Ned to accept the role of Hand.”

“You weren’t there! You couldn’t possibly know any of that.” Baelish stood upright and spoke pointedly at Bran. His chest heaved with frustration as he looked desperately to Catelyn. Before he could continue, Bran spoke once more.

“Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them.”

The words hung heavy in the room as Baelish tried to back away, but his chained hands kept him fixed in place. As he struggled against them, Bran continued speaking.

“You crave power, but you’ll have as much success achieving it as you did in dueling my uncle for my mother’s hand.”

“I demand a trial by combat!”

At Baelish’s words, Jaime stood from the throne with a wide smile stretched across his face.

“Perfect. I happily grant you one.” With feigned difficulty in recollection, Jaime scratched his chin and looked to Catelyn. “What is that delightful expression your husband so enjoyed throwing around?”

Catelyn snorted and played into his game. “Winter is coming.”

“No… no. Not that one. Ah, yes. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

Looking to Baelish, Jaime’s smile dropped, and he snarled. “I’ll enjoy seeing the life leave your eyes by my hand.” 

“You think that I would be so foolish as to fight my own combat? I’ve made that mistake once before, haven’t I, _Lady_ Catelyn. I would name my champion!”

Jaime snorted and looked to Catelyn. “Very well. Best of luck in finding a willing champion.”

A knowing smile tugged at Baelish’s lips as he glanced between Jaime and Catelyn.

“Lady Lysa Baelish.”


	14. “I will pass your sentence”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lysa answers Littlefinger's request.

Jaime sat in the throne room awaiting Lysa Baelish to be brought forward. It had been three weeks since Baelish’s trial. As was custom, they had to send word to Lysa to see if she would accept his request.

They afforded her a moon turn to arrive at the capital or refuse Petyr. When an attendant announced Lysa’s arrival from the Vale not an hour prior, Jaime had nearly choked on his food.

_Seven hells. What a dolt this woman is!_

In truth, Jaime had no desire to deal with Lysa in trial by combat. He was willing to execute her for the role she played in Littlefinger’s game, but to fight her in combat felt wrong. At the same time, Jaime knew it would pain Catelyn to participate in her sister’s death.

_No kinslaying._

Lysa had wronged Catelyn, but they were still sisters. The pain of having to see a sibling sent into the Stranger’s arms was a struggle that Jaime knew all too well.

Brienne leaned over and whispered to Jaime. “Let me fight her if she accepts. I know you don’t wish to.”

Shaking his head, Jaime refused to accept it had come to this. “You’re near six moons with child. I’ll not have my pregnant wife in a trial by combat. I’ll behead her quickly and be done with it. Absurd.”

The doors to the throne room opened and Lysa walked in slowly. It was as though she was walking to her execution. Jaime saw Lysa glance at Catelyn; her eyes narrowing in anger. For her part, Catelyn stood rigid on the last stair before the throne.

Jaime didn’t need to see Catelyn’s face to know she was struggling to maintain her composure. They had argued about her presence in the throne room just an hour earlier. While Catelyn was angry at her sister’s betrayal and knew that Lysa must be punished, she had not considered death as the only option.

When the guards brought Lysa to a halt at the base of the stairs leading to the throne, Jaime’s eyes darted to Catelyn. Words seemed to elude her, and Jaime knew he needed to intercede.

“Lysa Baelish, welcome to King’s Landing. I certainly hope you’ve come to deny your husband’s request to fight as his champion.”

Lysa tilted her chin defiantly at Jaime. “I have come to accept.”

Jaime winced at the words; his eyes darting to Brienne.

“I would not recommend that. Do you know who fights on behalf of the crown?”

Once more, Lysa spoke confidently. Her eyes trained on Jaime. “My love has been falsely accused. I will fight for him. I don’t care who you put before me, Kingslayer.”

Catelyn found her voice as she stared down at her sister. “Lysa, it doesn’t need to be this way. Let Petyr fight for himself. It is King Jaime you would fight. This is not a match you can win.”

Shaking her head, Lysa’s resolve did not waver. Jaime considered Cersei and what might have appealed to her.

“And what of Lord Robin? Are you to leave your son alone in this world? He would be better off with his mother still drawing breath.”

Lysa’s eyes narrowed at Jaime before she spoke through gritted teeth. “And what have you done to him after my traitorous bannermen stole him from me!?”

Jaime laughed inwardly. They had wondered at what caused Robin to turn up with Lord Royce at the Keep. It seemed the Vale was not entirely aligned in the matter. Some supported Ser Harrold while others wished to remain loyal to House Arryn.

“Your son has been given comfortable quarters and is playing with his cousins. Perhaps you should follow the example your bannermen set and consider what is best for your son.”

Lysa glared at Jaime, but before speaking she clenched her jaw and looked away. Her chin quivered slightly before she bit down on her lip. Sensing an opportunity, Jaime pushed further.

“It doesn’t need to be like this. You don’t need to leave your son behind. Littlefinger is using you. Let him fight for himself."

Something flickered across Lysa’s face. She turned her head back slowly towards Jaime and all he saw was a stubborn resolve to stand by her husband.

“Take me to my husband. Let me see the man for whom I will play champion.”

Jaime glanced at Catelyn as she looked over her shoulder at him. With a shrug, Jaime could offer little more than a disheartened sigh. The guards stood behind Lysa waiting for Jaime’s orders.

“Take her to Baelish. She is not to be alone in the cell with him.”

As the guards took Lysa from the throne room, Catelyn collapsed to the steps. Before Jaime could move towards Catelyn, Brienne was at her side. The two women sat together speaking quietly and Jaime knew what he needed to do.

Making his way to Grand Maester Luwin’s office, Jaime knocked on the door lightly.

“Your Grace. Please, come in. What brings you here?”

Jaime moved inside and sighed as he appraised the room. Pycelle had always kept it stocked with all manner of ingredients and potions that Jaime hoped would prove useful today. It seemed that Luwin had taken Pycelle’s lead and kept the shelves full.

“Lady Lysa has elected to honor Littlefinger’s request and fight as his champion.”

Luwin groaned and shook his head at the words. “I feared as much.”

“Yes, well I could use your help with that. I wish to make her death as quick and painless as possible. Do you have something to facilitate that. Perhaps a potion that could dull the senses. Make her feel less fear or pain or something…”

Jaime had little idea as to what he was seeking, only that he wanted Lysa to be somewhere else during the fight. He wanted her to go away inside, but physically rather than emotionally. It was the only way that he could think to describe it.

Shaking his head, Luwin scratched at his chin and moved quickly to a large book on the shelf. “I do believe there are certain potions that can numb the pain; make her a bit giddy instead. Let me put some thought to it. When would you hold the trial?”

“Ideally on the morrow, but if you need longer to procure a solution, I can delay it. Lady Catelyn is bound to go mad with grief if we wait too long though.”

Luwin smiled and nodded as he placed a gentle hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “I understand, your Grace. Thank you for doing this. This will not be easy for her.”

 _Yes. Sadly, I’m all too familiar with the situation_.

The maester promised to provide an update on his progress to Jaime that evening. Jaime was frustrated by the entire situation. It was clear that Littlefinger knew he stood no chance. This was little more than a desperate attempt to appeal to Catelyn’s love of her family; a final effort to see the punishment called off.

That night, Luwin found Jaime. He handed him a small vial and sighed. “Give this to Lysa within an hour before the trial. She will feel no pain as she is embraced by the Stranger.”

It proved to be a long night. Catelyn wished to fight Lysa herself to ensure a quick and, as much as possible, painless death. A small huff of laughter pushed passed Jaime’s lips.

“I thought we had a strict policy on ‘no kinslaying’. No, I’ll do it.”

Jaime sought out Brienne after Catelyn’s tearful plea. “I need your help. I’ve told Catelyn that the trial is at midday. That will be the case, but only for Baeish. I will deal with Lysa in the morning. The guards and rest of the small council have been made aware. I just need you to distract Catelyn. Take her to the gardens or somewhere.”

Jaime’s dreams were plagued with images of Cersei’s death. He understood the emotional conflict and pain that Catelyn would endure, and Jaime wouldn’t wish it on his worst enemy.

When the hour came, Brienne did as Jaime asked. She sought out Catelyn to join her for tea the gardens, citing a need for private conversation regarding childbirth.

Standing in the near empty pit where they held trial by combat, Jaime watched as Littlefinger and Lysa were led into the area. The small council sat in the stadium to serve as witness to the trial. Not an hour earlier, Jaime had Lord Royce bring Lysa some tea laced with the potion.

The woman appeared slightly giddy as she and Petyr walked in. Glancing at Luwin, Jaime saw the man nod; apparently expecting such reaction to the potion.

When Littlefinger’s eyes landed on Jaime, they went wide. He looked around the pit frantically before speaking to Jaime. “Where is your Hand?”

Raising his flesh hand, Jaime smirked. “Right here. I like to keep a close eye on it, seeing as its the only one I have left.”

Brynden huffed at Jaime’s side. They had discussed the day’s events and Brynden was pleased with the plan. He, Jaime, and Cat would pay a special visit to Baelish before his formal execution on the morrow.

Baelish tried to appeal to Jaime, but he refused. “You’ve had your trial, Petyr. It was you who demanded trial by combat. So here we are. Now sit down and shut up or I’ll follow through on my threat to remove your tongue.”

Littlefinger paled as the guards tugged him backwards and towards the accused’s side of the pit. A table of weapons gave Lysa ample selection, and Jaime hoped for the woman’s sake that she didn’t cut off a limb trying to wield any of them.

The guards instructed Lysa, and she grabbed a large sword. With a sigh, Jaime glanced at Brynden. “Why don’t you go join the queen and your niece of tea. They’re in the gardens.”

Brynden grimaced, but he shook his head in refute.

_Stubborn old goat._

Taking a step closer to Brynden, Jaime leaned in and spoke for his ears only. “You know what she has been given. She will feel next to no pain. Go take some tea and avoid this. That’s an order.”

Brynden looked challengingly to Jaime before nodding. A flicker of gratitude danced in his eyes as he moved quickly from the pit. From the stands, Addam stood tall among the rest of the small council and spoke commandingly.

“Petyr Baelish. You stand accused of attempted regicide, treason, murder, conspiring to murder, and attempted murder. At your request, you will be judged by the gods in a trial by combat. You have chosen your own bloody wife who has never held a sword in all her days as your champion. May the Stranger take pity on her and save his wrath for you.”

Jaime snorted and glanced to Addam.

_A bit unconventional, but he at least covered the accusations._

Lysa looked in confusion around the pit. It was evident she had little idea of what to do as she held the hilt of the sword with two hands. The blade dragged across the dirt as the guards urged her towards Jaime.

For his part, Jaime stood at the center of the pit unarmed saved for the dagger at his hip. Littlefinger’s dagger.

He cast a look of disgust as Baelish before Lysa moved forward quickly. With all her strength, Lysa raised the sword high in the air and sliced down towards Jaime.

Easily sidestepping the strike, Jaime wrapped his maimed arm around Lysa’s waist and unsheathed the dagger at his hip. He dragged the steel across the flesh of her throat and let her body fall to the ground.

Without looking down at Lysa, Jaime pointed the dagger at Baelish. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a man. I’ll come by to check on you later.”

Baelish struggled against the guards as they dragged him back towards the cells. He sobbed loudly and begged Jaime’s forgiveness. Looking down at Lysa’s body, Jaime noted the pool of blood spreading out from her neck.

He commanded the Gold Cloaks to cover the body. While they had stripped Lysa and Petyr of their lands and titles, Jaime wished to afford Lysa a proper funeral befitting a Great House; not for her sake, but for Catelyn, Robin, and Ser Brynden.

Jaime and the small council made their way back to the Keep. The day was warm despite the early hour, and it had the small council in a most pleasant mood. A heavy arm draped over Jaime’s shoulders as Addam’s teasing words reached his ears.

“Gods. I hope you didn’t break a sweat, your Grace. She looked vicious charging at you.”

Jaime snorted and glanced at Addam. “The fight would only have been made easier, had it been against you.” Dropping any jest from his tone, Jaime looked ahead at the Keep. “Don’t jape about this in front of Catelyn. It’s not funny.”

Addam’s smile faded and he nodded. “I wouldn’t do that. She’s likely to be pissed, but you did right by her.”

_Did I? I just killed her sister._

Genna sighed at their backs, apparently having overheard the conversation. “Lysa was a woman grown, Jaime. She made her decisions and was judged fairly. Others have lost their lives for less and met a more violent end. You did her a kindness.”

Catelyn had been grateful that Jaime agreed to stand in at the trial despite facing Lysa. Jaime knew it would have been too painful for Catelyn, and she feared that anyone else would have prolonged the fight.

As they neared the Keep, something caught his eye near the gardens. Catelyn was running towards them with Brynden and Brienne at her back. It was evident that the Blackfish had arrived for tea and shared what was happening at the pit.

When she came closer, Jaime could see the tears in Catelyn’s eyes as she looked to him in question. With a nod of admission, Jaime braced himself for the reprimand. He was surprised when Catelyn collided into him instead. Pained sobs reached Jaime’s ears as he wrapped consoling arms around her.

“She felt no pain. It was quick.”

Catelyn nodded into chest. “My uncle told me what you did. What you asked Luwin for. Thank you.”

“Yes, well I was just afraid of her beating me, and I needed to even the odds. Tully women frighten me.”

Stepping back from the embrace, Catelyn wiped at her face and smiled through the tears. “Good. As they should.”

Glancing at Jaime’s tear and snot covered jerkin, Catelyn chuckled slightly. “And let that be a lesson to you. Don’t catch me unaware like that again. Now you’re a human handkerchief.”

Composing herself, Catelyn met his eyes. “I worry for Brienne though. The poor thing seemed ill when I answered the questions you made her distract me with.”

Looking to Brienne, Jaime could see a wary expression on her face. He bit back a laugh as he walked towards her. Leaning into Brienne’s ear, Jaime spoke teasingly. “So you distracted her for me and now I have to distract you from whatever horrors she spoke. I’m very good at distracting.”

Jaime rose a suggestive brow, but Brienne did not share his enthusiasm. “Given what I heard, it would take _a lot_ of distracting.”

_Good. A challenge then._

After confirming with Brynden the hour that they would meet outside the cells, Jaime tugged Brienne to their room. He enjoyed laying with his wife, but the sight of her belly growing rounder by the day with their babe pleased him to no end.

Brienne had truly been worried at what information Catelyn shared, but Jaime was more than happy to distract Brienne a few times before the hour grew late and he needed to make his way towards the cells.

With Brienne asleep in his arms, Jaime placed a gentle kiss to her neck before slipping from the bed. He pulled the blankets over her naked body and dressed quickly for what was to come.

Meeting Catelyn and Brynden outside the cells, Jaime followed as Addam led them to Littlefinger’s cell. Their torchlights cast long shadows on the wall as the sound of keys echoed around them.

Addam unlocked the door and handed Brynden the keys before leaving them. As they stepped into the cell, Littlefinger cowered in the corner.

Flanked by the Tullys, Jaime eyed the man before them. Littlefinger moved to his knees and begged for mercy.

“Please, Ser Jaime…”

“Address your king properly. Say ‘Your Grace’, Petyr.” Brynden stalked towards Petyr as Jaime kept his eyes locked on the sniveling man.

“Your Grace. Cat. Please…”

“I said don’t call her that!” Jaime felt his temper flare again. The man had no right to such informality with the woman he betrayed. The woman who Jaime looked to as a sister and would do anything to protect.

At Jaime’s side, Catelyn produced a small vial. “Drink this, or we cut out that tongue of yours. That had been King Jaime’s preference.”

Littlefinger’s eyes went wide and he shook his head in refute. “No. Please. Just take my head and be done with it.”

Brynden grabbed Petyr be the throat and reached back for the vial with his free hand. “Give it here, Cat.”

Jaime watched as Catelyn handed Brynden the vial. It was a solution that they did not seek Luwin’s aid in creating. He was an honest man, and this was not a worthy task. The potion was a deadly poison. It would work slowly and painfully.

First, the potion would numb Littlefinger’s tongue and throat. He would become as capable of conversation as Ilyn Payne.

Second, the potion would slowly liquify his organs. He would suffer greatly, and his execution would need to be within a day or he might expire before the public beheading.

They would let him suffer through the night and behead him on the morrow. Unlike their jape on Septa Roelle, this was deadly. This was meant to repay a debt which Baelish amassed over a lifetime.

As Brynden dumped the potion down Littlefinger’s throat, he held Petyr’s head back and forced him to swallow the liquid. A wide smile tugged at Catelyn’s lips as she watched Littlefinger squirm.

“Your actions nearly saw my entire House destroyed. Your actions nearly saw House Lannister destroyed. You ignited a war. Unfortunately for you, your plan was not as clever as you thought. You are not half as clever as you think you are.”

Brynden released Littlefinger’s head and stepped backwards. Littlefinger clutched at his throat. His words came out choked.

“My… throat… I can’t… can’t. It hurts.”

Catelyn glared at Baelish. “Does it hurt as much as my sister’s when she took the blade meant for you? She loved you and would have done anything for you. She died for you. You never deserved her.”

Jaime could hear the emotion in Catelyn’s words. Littlefinger tried to respond, but his eyes went wide when he realized that he couldn’t.

A knowing smile tugged at Catelyn’s lips. “Finally. You’re out of pretty words. I want you to know that on the morrow, I will follow my chosen brother’s example. I will follow the words my husband often spoke. The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. I will pass your sentence.”


	15. "It’s all spinning"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two moons after Baelish's execution, Catelyn reflects on everything. The dead march south as life continues on.

Catelyn smiled at the missive in her hand. Her brother would arrive in King’s Landing within a fortnight to take Robin to Riverrun. It had been decided that Robin would become Edmure’s ward and learn the ways of ruling by his uncle’s example. In the meantime, Lord Royce would act as castellan at the Eyrie.

The young boy had struggled with the loss of his mother. Catelyn felt horrible for it, but Robin understood Petyr was at fault. He had come to understand enough of Petyr’s cruelties to know that he was not a good man and had taken advantage of his mother.

Catelyn thought back on the execution two moons ago. She had checked on Baelish throughout the night after giving him the potion. It was not something she prided herself on; enjoying his slow death. Nonetheless, Catelyn relished in it.

The morning of the execution, Catelyn paid a final visit to Baelish. His breathing had been labored as he lay on the floor of the cell staring blankly at the wall. Silent tears streaked down Littlefinger’s face when his eyes landed on Catelyn. Crouching before him, Catelyn whispered venomously.

“I’m glad this hurts. You tried to tear my family apart. You turned my own sister on me and put my children in harm’s way. You contributed to Ned’s death. I could have lost everything because of you. Never have a misjudged another as poorly as I did you. You are no brother of mine. My brothers are Edmure and Jaime.”

At the mention of Jaime, hurt blossomed in Baelish’s eyes. A wicked smile tugged at Catelyn’s lips. “You tried to turn House Stark and House Lannister on one another. You brought us together in the end. I’ve also gained a daughter in Brienne. I’ve gained a goodson in Tyrion; even if he feels more of a third younger brother.”

Catelyn heard from Bran of the sick fascination Petyr had with Sansa. It unnerved Catelyn to think that the man she once thought a brother, would harbor such desires for her girl. Leaning in closely, Catelyn whispered.

“Guess what. I’m too be a grandmother. Sansa is pregnant with Tyrion’s babe. I’ve just found out. I’ll get to hold two babes in my arms soon. My chosen brother’s babe and my daughter’s babe. I’m quite excited by the knowledge that neither babe has to endure a world in which you can touch them.”

Standing upright, Catelyn glared down. “I apologize if it takes me a few hacks to remove your head. Like Lysa, I’m untrained with a sword.”

Without another word, Catelyn exited the cells. In truth, Jaime had helped her practice. While she would have enjoyed watching Baelish suffer with his head half attached, it was to be a public execution and they needed to appear just.

As she stepped onto the platform later that morning, Catelyn spoke confidently before the crowd. “The crown carries out its own judgements. I, Catelyn of House Stark, Hand to King Jaime, will carry out the gods will. Petyr Baelish has been found guilty in trial by combat for the crimes of attempted regicide, treason, murder, conspiring to murder, and attempted murder. He had chosen his own wife as champion, Lysa Baelish.”

At her words, the crowd jeered at Petyr. Some threw objects that bounced off his downcast head as he kneeled on the platform. Turning to Jaime, Catelyn extended her hand as he unsheathed his sword. He smirked and leaned in slightly.

“I don’t think anyone would begrudge you at least one miss.”

Catelyn snorted as she took the sword in hand. Moving to stand over Baelish, Catelyn raised an amused brow. “Any last words?”

A strangled sob escaped Petyr’s throat as he glanced up at her. With a vicious smile, Catelyn placed the blade on the back of his neck and let the blade cut through the top layer of skin. Then in one smooth motion, Catelyn raised the blade high and brought it slicing down on Petyr’s head.

The Valyrian steel cut cleanly through bone and tissue, but the rightmost side of Petyr’s head remained attached. Sawing through slightly, Catelyn watched as the head rolled towards the platform’s edge.

With a deep sigh, she turned back to Jaime who had an impressed look on his face. When she approached with his sword, he quirked a brow and spoke for her ears only.

“Tully women are frightening indeed. Any chance you can do that to the Night King or his queen?”

They had a proper funeral for Lysa the following day. While they did not anticipate executing Lysa, she chose her death in response to Petyr’s request. She knowingly left behind her young son and kingdom to follow a man into the seven hells.

It hurt Catelyn to think on, but Tyrion had the right of it. Lysa had not been well in some time. The years were unkind, and her twisted love of Petyr ruined her. With Petyr’s death, unwelcome news was shared by Bran. The dead had breached the wall.

_Gods. Sending Petyr to the seven hells was the final piece necessary for evil to gain its strength._

“Stop being such a baby! I’ve hardly touched you!”

Catelyn looked up and chuckled at the sight of Brienne beating Jaime mercilessly around the training yard. She was eight moons pregnant and refused to stop sparring. At Jaime’s insistence, or rather at his pleading, they only used practice swords give her physical state.

The young woman was a sight to behold with a weapon in hand. She moved better at eight moons pregnant than some knights moved in their prime. Of course, Jaime was moving at half speed on her behalf.

Catelyn marveled at how far he had come with his off hand. She had seen glimpses of it when they reclaimed Winterfell from House Bolton, but Jaime moved better than most did with their dominant hand.

Of course, the benefactor of his unmatched skill with a sword was Arya. Being lefthanded herself, the girl learned an incredible amount from Jaime, and Catelyn was impressed to see how far her daughter had progressed.

Jon, Pod, Rickon, and Arya stood to the side of the yard cheering them on. On account of the evacuation in the north, Jon had elected to stay at King’s Landing as he and Brienne learned to control Rhaegal and Viserion. Missandei have proved a wealth of knowledge in teaching them Valyrian and helping them better understand the dragons.

Bran ‘did his bird thing’ as Jaime called it, and he studied how the early Targaryens rode their dragons. To keep from falling during battle, they used harnesses. Bran worked with the smiths on harnesses for the dragons to ensure Brienne’s and Jon’s safety.

Beyond training with the dragons, Jon trained with Jaime and Brienne. Catelyn enjoyed seeing Jon smile. He had smiled infrequently in youth, but he thrived around the king and queen.

Jon enjoyed sparring with the pair, and he learned as much form them as Arya, Rickon, and Pod had. Jaime would spar with the foursome when Brienne grew too winded from her pregnant state. Today was proving no different.

“Alright. One match. House Lannister vs House Stark.” Jaime pointed his blade at Jon, Rickon, and Arya; a wide smirk on his face. Pod seemed to take on the role of adopted son to Jaime and Brienne which amused Catelyn endlessly. They bickered over the raising of the young man like couple already married a lifetime.

Jon, Rickon, and Arya eagerly moved into the yards as Pod jogged to stand between his ‘parents’. It seemed to Catelyn that Pod only served as an obstacle for their game. Poor Pod was often trapped between Jaime’s and Brienne’s movements around him.

It was the only thing more impressive than watching Jaime and Brienne fight each other. When they fought together, they were unstoppable.

_Good luck to the Night King with those two._

The match began and her kin were easily disarmed. As usual, Jon put on the best showing, but he was still no match for Jaime _and_ Brienne. With some jeering, Catelyn called out after them.

“Come now! Show those pesky southerners how the North fights.”

_Gods, Robb would have loved this._

They moved into position again and Jaime jokingly began to use Pod as a human shield against Rickon and Arya, as Brienne moved against Jon. Abruptly, Brienne dropped her sword and bent at the waist.

A slight panic gripped Catelyn as she ran to the young woman. She hadn’t seen Jon land a blow, but based on Brienne’s reaction, it seemed he had accidently struck her. Brienne sank to her knees and leaned forward in pain.

Jaime’s eyes went wide as he crouched at Brienne’s side. Any mirth among the group was gone as they circled around Brienne.

When Catelyn approached, she saw the issue.

_Oh gods. The babe. Her waters._

Brienne was having a contraction, and it seemed her time had come. Reaching the group, Catelyn looked to Arya and Rickon. She instructed them to fetch Grand Maester Luwin and meet them in the Keep. As the pair ran off, Catelyn crouched beside Jaime.

“Brienne. We need to get you inside. The babe is coming.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide in fear and she shook her head. “No. No, it’s too early! I have another moon turn.”

Understanding Brienne’s fear, Catelyn grabbed the young woman’s face and forced Brienne to meet her eyes. “Brienne. It’s time. You’re the bravest young woman I’ve ever met, and you can do this. I need you to come inside the Keep though, or this babe will be born here in the training yards.”

Catelyn watched as Brienne looked uneasily at her. They had spoken just a week ago about Brienne’s fears. Both Brienne’s mother and Jaime’s mother died on the birthing bed. It was a fact the couple was acutely aware of.

Righting herself, Brienne took a deep breath and Jaime put his arm around her waist reassuringly. "Our little knight is just eager to come beat up these Starks.”

His voice aimed for jest, but Catelyn could hear the fear under the surface. As they entered the Keep and neared the couple’s bedroom, Catelyn smiled inwardly when they walked by the nursery. A ship from Tarth had arrived just a fortnight ago to collect more supplies for the reconstruction effort.

On the ship was a special gift from Brent. The crib was finished, and had a note attached to it. Catelyn had never seen Jaime so excited. He was practically jumping with joy as he tugged her into the nursery and showed it to her.

It was a beautifully crafted crib and Brent had carved sigils into the end boards. On one side, the Tarth sigil was carved, and inside the center starburst, Brent added Ser Duncan’s sigil. On the other side, the Lannister sigil was carved.

Of course, Jaime had not considered much beyond a crib and rocking chair. Catelyn dragged Jaime into the city to get more supplies. She helped him decorate the nursery whenever Brienne was occupied for long enough.

It turned out to be one of the highlights of Catelyn’s day. Most days it was just Catelyn and Jaime, bantering as they worked. Other days, the Stark children and Pod offered aid.

Sansa helped sew new clothing for the babe, and she made decorations for the room that played into the Tarth and Lannister colors and sigils.

Rickon, Pod, and Arya helped hang the adornments that Catelyn and Sansa made. Jaime and Bran were generally useless when together. The pair japed or needled one another endlessly.

As useless as they were, it pleased Catelyn to see them enjoying themselves. Jon even came in from time to time to help Jaime move the larger furniture around.

They had finished the room two days prior and Catelyn had never felt as relieved as she did in the moment. Once they got Brienne into her room, Catelyn set to the task of getting Brienne comfortable. She helped Brienne out of her soaked breeches and coached her through another wave of pain.

As Grand Maester Luwin came into the room, he ordered the attendants to bring more towels and linens. Checking Brienne, he hummed slightly and glanced to Catelyn. Still some time to go. It might be a few hours.

“A few hours of this!?” Brienne threw back her head on the pillow and sobbed.

At her side, Jaime tried to comfort Brienne, but she was in no mood.

“Your Grace, mayhap you would prefer to wait outside?” Luwin’s question was more of a statement, and Catelyn struggled to stifle her laughter.

_Please. Luwin would have better luck keeping Daenerys dead._

Jaime scoffed and moved onto the bed beside Brienne. “I’m not leaving her.”

A knowing smirk tugged at Catelyn’s lips as she took in Luwin’s unimpressed reaction. With a shake of his head, Luwin dipped a cloth into the water basin and wrung it out. He folded it and draped it across Brienne’s forehead.

Another wave of pain gripped Brienne and she writhed on the bed. Catelyn knew the pain all too well. Her heart went out to Brienne as the young woman whimpered and gripped Jaime’s hand tightly. Hours passed with more of the same.

When soon the waves of pain came closer together and Brienne was begging for relief, Luwin checked her and his brows rose.

“My queen, I can see the head. Let me know when you feel an intense pressure and the need to push.”

Catelyn felt a surge of excitement, but Brienne seemed to be fading. Her color was gone and her lolled softly from side to side.

“It hurts.”

Shifting on the edge of the bed to face Brienne, Catelyn tapped her cheek lightly. “Brienne. I need you to focus. I know it hurts and you’re tired, but you must listen to your body. Do you need to push?”

Brienne shook her head in refute and Catelyn smiled warmly. As they waited for Brienne’s body to lead the way, Luwin draped a sheet over Brienne’s lower body to afford her some modesty as he maneuvered Brienne’s legs into a better position.

With the next wave of pain, Brienne gripped Jaime’s arm and cried out. “I need the babe out! It hurts. Please.”

Luwin urged Brienne to push as he moved her knees back. With everything she had, Brienne pushed hard as Catelyn and Jaime offered encouragement.

In between waves of pain and pushing, Brienne shook her head and pleaded with Luwin. “I changed my mind. I don’t want to push. It hurts.”

“My queen. The only way out is through. I need you to push again with the next wave of pain. You’re very close.”

Brienne whimpered at the words. Changing out the cloth on her forehead, Catelyn squeezed Brienne’s hand and tried reassuring her, but it was Jaime she clung to. He held her close and spoke quietly for Brienne’s ears only.

When the next wave of pain came, Brienne pushed hard as Jaime yelled at her side. It was another wave of pain and pushing before a little lion emerged. Luwin placed the babe on Brienne’s chest and smiled.

“Your Grace. My queen. You have a son.”

A wide smile stretched across Catelyn’s face as she watched the couple stare in awe at their son. Brienne’s arms wrapped firmly around the young boy as Jaime held his family and cried.

“You did it, wench! We have a son!”

Looking to Luwin, Catelyn’s smile dropped as she saw his brows furrow. His eyes darted to Catelyn and he gestured at her.

“There’s another. The babe is facing the wrong way. I need to turn this one, but we need to deliver the afterbirth first. My queen, need you to push down again.”

Catelyn watched as Jaime and Brienne looked to Luwin in shock. She moved to Luwin’s side to provide aid as the afterbirth was delivered. After the maester cut through the cord, Catelyn moved away the afterbirth and Luwin tried to turn the babe. Brienne grimaced in discomfort and held her son close.

Catelyn rushed back to Brienne’s side with a towel. She wiped down the babe and wrapped him in a swaddle. Taking the babe so that Brienne could concentrate on delivering the next babe, Catelyn extended the little boy to Jaime. When he recoiled slightly, Catelyn was shocked. A fear shone in Jaime’s eyes as he stared at her.

“I… I don’t know how.”

It was a thought that had not occurred to Catelyn before.

_Gods. Cersei never let him hold one of their babes._

Catelyn walked around to the other side of the bed so that she could sit beside Jaime. Placing the babe in the crook of Jaime’s arm, Catelyn positioned his other arm underneath to best support the babe. She offered a reassuring smile and placed her hand on Jaime’s head once he relaxed slightly.

“Babes are sturdy. Just support his head like that and he’ll be fine. You’re his father. He only needs your love.”

Jaime nodded and smiled excitedly at Brienne. She was taking a break from pushing as Catelyn rushed back to her other side. At the next wave of pain, Catelyn took Brienne’s hand and encouraged her.

She could see that Brienne was fading quickly from the effort. Glancing down, she could see a good deal of blood on the linens beneath Brienne.

Glancing at Luwin, the maester hummed slightly and shook his head. “Take a moment, my queen. Just breathe. This little one is a bit stubborn.”

_Gods. Get that babe out. She’s losing a lot of blood._

With the next push, another little lion emerged. This one was all lungs as the babe cried out. Luwin smiled warmly and placed the babe on Brienne’s chest.

“Our prince has a little sister. A pair of Lannister twins!”

Catelyn clapped her hands excitedly and looked to Jaime and Brienne. An overwhelming relief was writ across Brienne’s face as she held her daughter close. It was Jaime’s face that worried her.

He stared at the young girl; the color draining from his face. A slight panic took hold of his features as he forced a smile and met Brienne’s eyes.

_Gods. He’s afraid they’ll be him and Cersei._

Looking as though he had seen a ghost, Jaime slowly looked to Catelyn. He looked ready to faint as he spoke quietly. “Can you hold him? It’s all spinning.”


	16. "Different than her"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime reacts to the birth of the twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little in between chapter until things pick up with the dead.

Jaime felt like he couldn’t breathe. He sat on floor of the hallway with Catelyn crouched before him. Her hands were on his face, trying to get his attention.

“Just breathe, Jaime. It’s alright. Look at me.”

Forcing his eyes to meet Catelyn’s, Jaime felt as though the entirety of the Keep had collapsed on top of him. Over Catelyn’s shoulder, Brynden held his newborn son as Ser Boros stood beside the Blackfish, smiling at the babe.

“They’re doomed. It’s my fault.” Jaime spoke more to himself than Catelyn.

“No! No, Jaime. They’re perfect. This is not the same. I swear it to you.”

_You can’t possibly know that. This is my fault. I’m cursed._

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jaime shook his head. The happiest moment of his life and turned into the most frightening. Memories of his childhood rushed to the forefront of his mind. He felt ill at the visions fighting for dominance in his mind.

Catelyn whispered for Jaime’s ears only as she leaned close.

“Do not put this on those babes, Jaime. They have done no wrong and they are not doomed. They are of you and Brienne. You will be amazing parents to them. You will be an example of a healthy, loving relationship. They will not do _that_. Please, go be with Brienne. You are a new family, and you don’t want her to feel alone or as though she has done wrong.”

The thought of his reaction hurting Brienne tore at Jaime. He was proud of how well she had done delivering their babes. Even more so, Jaime was incredibly relieved that she lived through it. Both of their mothers died on the birthing bed; his mother birthing Tyrion and her mother birthing twin girls.

With a nod of his head, Jaime righted himself. He swayed slightly at the movement, but Catelyn steadied him quickly. Grabbing his arm tightly, Catelyn stared at him with worry writ across her face. Before he crossed over the threshold into the room, she tugged at his arm.

“Jaime. You’re a father. A _true_ father. You have two healthy, beautiful babes. This is a wonderful day.”

Taking a deep breath, Jaime nodded and smiled genuinely. Regardless of his fear, Jaime was thrilled. It was all that he dreamed of with Brienne. A family to call his own.

_It’s alright. They’ll be alright. I won’t let them do what Cersei and I did. I can’t fail them._

Moving back into the room, Jaime’s eyes fell on Brienne. She was gripping their baby girl tightly, but her face was filled with fear.

Jaime moved quickly to the bed and sat facing her. Pressing his forehead to hers, Jaime whispered. “I’m sorry. I just… I needed a moment. I love you so much. You did amazing.”

Brienne’s eyes betrayed her worry as she appraised him. “Is it because of…” Her eyes darted away as she took a deep breath. “Do you fear they’ll be _too_ close?”

With a slight nod, Jaime admitted to his deepest fear. “It’s my fault. I hope its not some inherited defect.”

“It’s not your fault. They’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” Brienne’s words sounded as much for herself as Jaime.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime pressed his lips firm to Brienne’s. The love he felt for her was unlike anything he experienced before. Every day he loved her more, but now after she birthed their babes, he felt as though his heart may explode from joy.

Despite his fears, Jaime had never been happier. He committed to be a better father than he started off in the moments following the twins’ birth. At his back, the Blackfish chuckled.

“This one likes me! He’s to be a great knight. A strong grip already.”

Jaime turned to see the older knight holding his son with a fondness on his face. The babe gripped Brynden’s index finger tightly, eliciting a smile from the Blackfish. Catelyn moved to her uncle’s side and looked to the babe.

“Enough hogging him, uncle! Let me hold my nephew.”

Begrudgingly, Brynden handed the young babe over as Catelyn smiled widely and looked at the boy. Without looking up, she spoke to Jaime and Brienne.

“You’ll need to think of two names now.”

Jaime smirked at the comment. They had already picked out the names moons ago. Glancing at Brienne, he raised a brow. It seems they would each get their wish.

Brienne had wanted to name a boy after her brother, Galladon. Jaime suggested Catelyn for a girl. He wouldn’t admit to it being his idea though.

_No sense in inflating Catelyn’s ego. Let her think it was Brienne’s idea or a mere coincidence._

“Do you think we had no idea this was happening? Gods, Catelyn. What do you think we did for the past moons? We are already debating the names for our sixth and seventh children.”

At Jaime’s teasing words, Brienne stiffened. “That is not funny. You birth the next ones. I’m tired and everything hurts.”

Catelyn walked over and sat on the edge of the bed beside Jaime. She handed the babe back to him and smiled as she looked to the babe in Jaime’s arms.

“Well, what are you calling him?”

Brienne smiled excitedly as she stared at Jaime and their son. His heart warmed to see her so happy. “Galladon.”

Catelyn’s hand reached over and tucked the swaddle closer to the babe. “Perfect! Galladon. What a wonderful name, Brienne.”

Loud voices carried down the hallway and cut through the calm atmosphere in the room. Running to the room, Arya, Rickon, and Pod peered in.

Arya’s voice called out from the doorway. “Is the little knight here? We’ve made bets on whether it has a cock or not.”

Jaime snorted and inclined his head. “Come on then.”

The three moved in eagerly as Ayra continued. “Sansa is going to be properly pissed to have missed this. I can’t wait to rub it in her face.”

Jaime smiled widely and watched as the three youngsters came to stand before them. Their eyes went wide as they looked between Jaime and Brienne.

“Those… those are twins.” Pod’s stammered slightly as he glanced between the babes.

“Very perceptive Podrick. You’ve come a long way.” Jaime’s voice was teasing as he watched Pod’s face redden at the obvious remark. Extending his arms out, Jaime raised a brow.

“Here. Meet Galladon. He’s likely to be Arya’s height in a couple of years.”

Arya huffed in annoyance at Pod’s side as the young man stepped forward eagerly. Extending his arms, Pod held the babe and bounced Galladon lightly.

As the trio fussed over Galladon, Catelyn shoved Jaime out of the way and reached for the babe laying peacefully in Brienne’s arms.

“Lets see this little one. I’ve not held my niece yet.”

At Catelyn’s words, Arya spun on heel. Her brows rose curiously as she appraised the babe in Catelyn’s arms. “A girl?”

With a small smile, Brienne nodded. “Mayhap you can train her someday. She can squire for you.”

Arya smiled widely. “Deal! What’s her name?”

“Catelyn.”

At Brienne’s declaration, Catelyn’s head snapped up. Tears formed in her eyes and a wide smile tugged at her lips. Her voice was a mix of surprise and happiness.

“Brienne. Truly?”

With a raised brow towards Jaime, Brienne smirked. “It was Jaime’s idea.”

“What!? No. I suggested the name _only_ if the babe looked problematic.”

Brienne guffawed. “You were adamant that our first girl had to be Catelyn.”

“Wench, you are delirious from birthing twins and blood loss. I’m fairly certain that I said ‘anything _except_ Catelyn’. You misunderstood me.”

With a snicker, Brienne shook her head and looked to Catelyn. “He wanted to name the babe after the woman who brought us together and I’m fairly certain he said, ‘the only proper sister I have’.”

Catelyn raised an amused brow. “Well it isn’t too late to change the name, Jaime.”

“No, it’s fine. I mean… it’s already out there. Might as well just live with it.”

Jaime pretended at indifference, but his response was weak, and it mattered little. Little Catelyn had already been handed off to Arya and Catelyn pulled him into a tight hug.

Catelyn’s muffled words reached his ears as she squeezed him tightly. “Now who is the one obsessed?”

Jaime snorted at the comment, but he held Catelyn tightly. The love he felt for Brienne was unparalleled, but the familial love he felt for Catelyn was one that would see Jaime running into the seven hells and back to keep her safe. He would be pleased if his daughter grew up to be like the woman in his arms.

“Oh gross. I think she shit. Take it back.” Arya’s words elicited a collective chuckle from Jaime and Catelyn. The Stark matriarch took the babe from Arya and shook her head in disapproval.

With a sigh, Catelyn set the babe down and glanced between Brienne and Jaime. “Have either of you changed a nappy before?”

Jaime didn’t know what expression took hold of his features, but Catelyn appeared as unimpressed as she had been moments earlier with Arya. Shooing the younger three from the room, Catelyn showed Brienne and Jaime how to change the babes. She helped Brienne latch the babes to nurse while showing Jaime how best to swaddle them.

“This is a lot of information. They should just come with little books containing this information.”

Catelyn snorted and tapped his cheek. “Gods help these poor babes. I’ll see about getting a wet nurse to help Brienne for the next few nights until you find someone you like. Feeding one babe is a fulltime job. Feeding two is likely to kill her off.”

Glancing at Brienne, Jaime could see that she was already fading. Jaime moved to the bed and scooped up little Catelyn in his arms while Galladon lay sleeping between them.

“I’ll watch them. Rest, wench.”

With a final glance back at them, Catelyn left the room and began barking instructions at those amassed in the hallway.

Looking at his small family, Jaime smiled widely.

_I’m a true father now. Two little knights for our family._

The next days were a blur. At Catelyn’s insistence, Jaime and Brienne barely left the room. She felt it best for Brienne’s recover and for Jaime to be with his new family. Every morning and evening, Catelyn came by to update them on the day’s events and hold the babes.

Attendants brought them food and supplies for the babes. True to her word, Catelyn also sent a wet nurse to help Brienne with feedings. It proved more helpful than either Jaime or Brienne realized. 

When at least Brienne felt comfortable enough to walk from the room, Jaime took her to the nursery. He had never been so excited to show her anything as he was the room. Pushing open the door, Jaime held Galladon as they stepped inside.

With little Cat in her arms, Brienne gasped as she stepped inside. Jaime watched as she walked around the room, taking it all in. He began to get nervous when she didn’t say anything, but when he approached and saw tears in her eyes, Jaime panicked.

“If you don’t like it, we can change it.”

“It’s perfect. I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.” Jaime had never seen Brienne smile as widely as she did then.

As Brienne moved closer to the crib once more and admired the detailing, Jaime felt his stomach drop.

_We need a second crib._

“Ser Brent made it. He sent a note with it, but I haven’t opened it yet. I thought we were having one babe, but I can ask about having his help with a second crib.”

Jaime watched as Brienne placed Catelyn in the crib. She smiled down at the babe, but at the loss of contact, little Cat began to cry. Brienne moved towards Jaime and took Galladon from his arms without a word.

“Don’t be ridiculous. They are so small. They don’t need two cribs. My sisters shared one.”

As Brienne placed Galladon down next to Cat, the crying stopped. A wide smile spread across her face as she looked down at the twins, but Jaime felt anything but happy.

“No! You can’t put them in the same crib. I’m going to get another.”

Jaime moved forward quickly, but Brienne placed a firm hand on his chest.

“What is the matter with you? They’re babes. Look how happy they are.”

A feeling of helplessness consumed Jaime. He didn’t want to upset Brienne, but he also wanted to protect their children.

“Brienne, no! It was different. You sisters were girls. Our twins are a boy and a girl.”

Brienne snorted and rolled her eyes. “Gods. This is where Pod gets it from. The pair of you are painfully obvious.”

Reaching into the crib, Jaime scooped up Galladon in his arms and Catelyn immediately began crying again. An emotion that Jaime rarely saw in Brienne’s face flashed in her eyes. Anger.

“What is wrong with you!? You upset them.”

In a huff of frustration, Brienne picked up little Cat and held her close, attempting to soothe the babe. It broke Jaime’s heart to hear the babe cry and see Brienne upset, but she didn’t understand.

“They put me and Cersei in a crib together, Brienne. I won’t do that to our babes. They need separate rooms.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed at the words. “Separate rooms? They are not even a week old, Jaime! I’ll not separate them any sooner than see a second crib put in here.”

“You don’t understand. You’re not a twin. We can’t have them bond _that_ closely.”

At his words, Brienne’s face betrayed her hurt and anger. “They’re not you and Cersei. Stop treating them as such. They’re better than that.”

The words were like a slap to the face. Jaime felt a mix of hurt and shame. Tears stung at the back of his eyes as he put Galladon back into the crib and left the room quickly. Distantly he could hear Brienne call out after him with an apology, but he needed to get away.

In his heart, he believed the words true. What he had with Cersei was twisted and wrong. It felt a reflection of himself.

Jaime soon found himself in the gardens near the godswood. It hurt to think that the twins were half of him and in a way, half Cersei. All he wanted was a family to call his own, but he wondered at what cost.

_Mayhap I was never meant to have children of my own. Look at how horrible the last attempt went. All three dead._

“Jaime?” The sound of Genna’s voice interrupted Jaime’s self-loathing thoughts. Turning at her approach, Jaime saw the worry at her face.

“Brienne came looking for you. She told me what happened.” With a deep sigh, Genna sat down beside him. Jaime could feel Genna staring at him before she spoke.

“From the moment you entered this world, you were always following Cersei. It was always her leading. In _everything_.” Genna raised a knowing brow and Jaime felt shame wash over him anew. He knew what Genna was referencing, and he didn’t want to discuss it with his aunt.

With a deep sigh, Genna ran a hand through Jaime’s hair. “Your mother was worried at what Cersei might do to you.”

The words caught Jaime by surprise. He looked to Genna questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“You remember the lions under the Rock? The ones you visited in the cages and stuck your little hands through the bars at? You thought we didn’t know about that, didn’t you?”

Jaime snorted. “What of it?”

Genna’s face was one of challenge. “Cersei led; even then. Always the bolder between the pair of you. You would have followed her to the end of the world and back again. Your mother saw the early signs of madness in Cersei, and knowing how readily you followed Cersei in everything, Joanna feared you would follow her in madness.”

“Cersei wasn’t mad as a girl. She was kind and fun and loving.” Jaime’s tone was adamant. He remembered it all so vividly.

Genna snorted. “To you she was those things. Please Jaime. Nothing happens at the Rock without me knowing about it. Her madness was quite apparent to the rest of us.”

With a deep sigh, Genna shook her head. “From the day Tyrion was born, Cersei hated him. Tortured the poor boy. She would sneak into the room and pinch him just as she did when the Martell children visited. What kind of child hates a babe so?”

Genna huffed before continuing. “That wasn’t even the worst of it. She was cruel to the attendants at the Keep. She killed her own childhood friend because the girl showed interest in you!”

“What?” Jaime’s brows knitted in confusion as he looked to Genna.

Genna hung her head in shame and took a steadying breath. “Melara. The girl fancied you, and Cersei knew it. She killed her for it, Jaime. Shoved the girl down a well to her death. I had to play at ignorance when the search parties went out. It is my greatest regret to this day.”

As she made the confession, Genna looked pained. “I know of so many horrible things that Cersei did. She was lost to us form the moment she came into the world screaming in rage. Joanna saw it. I saw it. Others saw it. Your father only cared that she could be wed off for political alliance. I know how she manipulated you. I was hopeless to stop it. You were so desperate for love and affection after Joanna died. Laughable really. Where Cersei was darkness incarnate, you were light.”

Genna’s eyes returned to Jaime; a warmth touched her features. “You have always been driven by love. There has always been a sense of honor and duty in you that the rest of our House lacked. You cared for Tyrion when no one else would. You protect those you care about; even if you disagree with them at times. You sacrificed your own name for the realm. You’re a good man, Jaime. Nothing like Cersei. Your children are not her either. Brienne didn’t mean the words the way they sounded, but she spoke truth.”

Grabbing Jaime’s face in her hands, Genna spoke ardently. “Your babes _are_ better than that. They are better than that, because they only have the best of the Lannister twins in their blood. You. _Not_ Cersei. You are not the same person as Cersei, Jaime. You have always been different. Different than _her_.”


	17. "Just a midnight ride"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne reflects on things as the babes reach one moon. Bran shares news of the dead.

The sound of Galladon crying woke Brienne from a dreamless sleep. It had been a moon turn since the babes were born. According to Bran, the dead were only two moons out from King’s Landing. The Vale, the Riverlands, and the Crownlands had been evacuated to Dorn, the Reach, the Stormlands, or the West.

While much of the Riverlands moved into the West or the Reach, Edmure and Robin were making the trip to King’s Landing. In the West, Sansa and Tyrion had departed for King’s Landing a week ago.

Daven was left in charge at the Rock to oversee the refugees and kingdom in their stead. The couple would ultimately make their way to Tarth with the twins, Robin, and the Stark children, to wait out the battle with the dead.

Catelyn did not want them on the mainland for what was to come. If the living failed to defeat the dead, Brienne asked Sansa to raise her babes as if they were her own.

It pained Brienne to think of her children growing up in a world without their parents, but she and Jaime had to stay and fight for Westeros. Once Grand Maester Luwin had cleared Brienne for training, she was immediately back in the yards.

Stumbling through the dark hallway, Brienne pushed open the door to the nursery. She could see Jaime changing little Cat’s nappy as Galladon cried in the crib. With disappointment heavy in his eyes, Jaime glanced back at her.

“Sorry. I thought I could handle them and let you sleep. The wet nurse is on the way.”

Since their fight three weeks ago, Jaime had not voiced concern over the twins sharing a crib and nursery. It seemed to Brienne that he had not accepted the decision so much as he decided to bite his tongue. Every night they put the babes to bed, Brienne could see the worry in his eyes.

What Jaime didn’t know, was that Brienne had written Brent and asked if he would mind making a second crib. It should be arriving any day now and Brienne hoped it would be a peace offering of sorts.

Brienne felt horribly for how her words came out the day they fought. She was never very eloquent, and the last person she meant to hurt was Jaime. The words were spoken in anger, fear, and extreme fatigue. She had been far more emotional than usual as her body adjusted postpartum.

Part of Brienne was afraid that she disappointed Jaime in giving him twins that only served to remind him of Cersei. It felt as though she couldn’t do anything right, and Brienne hated seeing the frantic expression on Jaime’s face in the weeks following.

Further, she hated that Jaime assumed their children were doomed merely because they were Lannister twins; a boy and a girl. Brienne couldn’t understand why Jaime felt so strongly when she knew him to be such a good man and nothing like Cersei.

While Brienne did not understand nor know of the origins of Jaime’s unnatural relationship with Cersei, she knew that Jaime now saw it for what it truly was. They would raise their children properly; not as Tywin did. From what little Brienne knew, Tywin was a distant, cold father who demanded much of his children. Instead, Jaime and Brienne would offer love and support to their twins.

Stepping into the room, Brienne smiled at the sight of Jaime trying to put a new nappy on little Cat. He was fairly adept at using his stump to care for the children, but certain effort such as nappy changes were a struggle.

“Here. Let me help.”

Brienne kneeled next to Jaime and quickly secured the new nappy before standing to get Galladon. Picking up the young boy, Brienne brought him beside little Cat to change his nappy as well. Once positioned side by side, the babes calmed.

One thing that Jaime said three weeks ago rung true and Brienne considered it daily. She didn’t understand the bond between twins and she never would.

Even their babes seemed much calmer together than apart. It was a connection that further reminded Brienne of how lonely she had been without siblings for much of her life.

Once Galladon was changed, Brienne moved to the chair to feed him. He was always the hungrier of the two. If he wasn’t fed first, Galladon voiced his complaint loudly.

Not long after Brienne began nursing Galladon, the wet nurse arrived and took Cat to the room next door. Jaime moved to sit on the floor near Brienne and Galladon; his flesh hand clutching at Brienne’s calf. Glancing down at Jaime, Brienne could see how tired he was.

“Go back to bed. I’ll put them to sleep.”

Jaime hummed and looked up at her. “It’s fine. I’ll stay and help.”

A small huff of laughter escaped Brienne’s lips. “I don’t think this is something you can help with unless you intend to grow breasts.”

A tired smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “No, I prefer enjoying yours than growing my own. Galladon always has trouble going back to sleep after he feeds. I’ll walk him around a bit.”

Brienne worried after Jaime. He had many obligations during the day as they prepared for war. Further, he insisted on being hands on with the babes which left him little time for sleep.

“I can walk him around. Go on. I’ll be in soon.”

Despite his hesitation, Jaime soon went to bed. A cool breeze blew in from the balcony and sent a shiver down Brienne’s spine. Glancing out the window, Brienne contemplated the recent temperature change. The days were growing shorter and the air colder.

Brienne had never expected to feel such cold in the south. It seemed the Night King was bringing more than death. True to House Stark’s words, winter was coming.

After feeding Galladon, Brienne bounced him to sleep as she paced the room. The wet nurse deposited a sleeping Catelyn into the crib and left quietly. Not long after, Brienne was able to put down Galladon and sneak back to bed.

When she returned, Jaime was tossing and turning in sleep. He mumbled as a slight sweat dotted his brow. It was evident to Brienne that he was having a nightmare, but she wondered if it was best to leave him be.

Placing a calming hand on his chest, Brienne watched as Jaime stilled slightly. He kept mumbling to himself as his head lolled back and forth on the pillow. Jaime’s nightmares were not uncommon. He often dreamed of Aerys or their ordeal with House Bolton. Sometimes he dreamed of Cersei unleashing wildfire on King’s Landing.

After a few moments, Jaime began to move more violently in sleep. He bolted upright gasping for air and looked frantically around.

“Bran. He’s going to kill Bran.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed as she moved to comfort him. “Jaime. It’s alright. You were having a nightmare.”

“No. I need to find Bran. He needs to go to Tarth.”

Jaime’s frantic words made little sense to Brienne. She tried again to calm him, but it was no use. Moving from the bed, Jaime threw on his tunic, breeches, and boots.

“Where are you going? Jaime, come back to bed.”

Looking towards the window, Brienne could not see a trace of sunlight over the horizon. It was likely hours before sunrise and Bran was likely asleep. Despite that fact, Jaime began speaking urgently.

“He’s in the godswood. I need to talk to him.”

Brienne moved from the bed and quickly put on clothing. “Jaime. By the gods, would you stop. He isn’t outside.”

Unable to stop him, Jaime moved quickly from the room. The Kingsguard dutifully followed as Brienne ran to catch up. It was pure madness, but when Jaime was in moods such as this, there was no stopping him.

As they stepped outside from the Keep, Brienne shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. The moon shone brightly in the sky and seemed to mock Brienne.

_I should be asleep. They twins will wake by the time I can get him back inside. Ridiculous._

They walked for some time until the godswood came into view. Brienne’s eyes went wide at the sight of Bran in his wheelchair.

_Gods. How did he get out here!?_

For his part, Jaime seemed unsurprised as he moved forward quickly. The young man’s eyes were rolled back, and Jaime crouched at his side. Tapping Bran’s arms, Jaime tried to bring him to the present.

“Bran! Enough now. Stop flying!”

Jaime huffed in annoyance and sat on the ground before the boy. Uncertain what to make of the exchange, Brienne looked to Jaime in question.

“Mayhap we should bring him inside.”

Shaking his head, Jaime kept his eyes on Bran. “He’ll be back soon.”

_I don’t even know what to make of this. Gods, I’m tired._

Sitting next to Jaime, Brienne felt his arms pull her close. “You should have stayed inside. It’s too cold and you need rest.”

“And you don’t!? This is ridiculous.”

No sooner than the words left her mouth, Bran’s eyes rolled forward. A slight panic shone in his eyes. It was unnerving whenever Brienne saw such human emotions touch Bran’s features. It never meant anything good.

“Daenerys and Drogon are being sent ahead to amass more wights. They’ll go to West first.”

_Gods. I need to stop her._

Brienne stood quickly and looked to the castle. “I need to get Jon. We need to take the dragons to stop her.”

“No!” Jaime jumped to his feet and grabbed Brienne’s wrist. “It’s not safe! You can’t!”

“If I don’t, we’ll be overrun. She’ll kill everyone in the West and then likely keep going south.”

Brienne’s tone was firm, but her heart hurt at the fear she saw in Jaime’s eyes. Thoughts of him and the twins consumed her. Brienne knew that leaving them would be difficult, but staying felt selfish. To have the best chance at survival, Brienne knew that she and Jon had to stop Daenerys.

Without another word, Brienne left to wake Jon and prepare to ride out. Brienne took a steadying breath and briefly closed her eyes as she jogged back towards the Keep. In the distance, Brienne could hear Bran and Jaime speaking urgently.

As she entered the Keep, Brienne moved to Jon’s assigned room and knocked loudly. It took a moment, but the shuffling of feet could be heard on the other side of the door.

When the door opened and Jon saw Brienne, his eyes went wide. “My queen. Apologies… if I’m late for something.”

Jon bowed and seemed to struggle to piece together the hour and where he was meant to be.

“You’re not late for a thing. I apologize for waking you, but there is a problem. Your brother has spotted the dead and it seems the Night King has sent his queen and her dragon to the West. They are trying to amass more dead for their army.”

At Brienne’s words, any sleep lingering in Jon’s eyes was replaced by worry. “Gods. We need to get to them.”

Nodding in agreement, Brienne spoke again. “I’m going to ready my things before heading to the yards. I’ll see you out there.”

After leaving Jon, Brienne moved quickly to her room. She threw on heavier layers and a cloak before strapping Oathkeeper to her hip. Moving to the chest at the foot of their bed, Brienne pushed aside her things to find what she was looking for.

When her hand gripped the hilt of the weapon, Brienne stood with it in hand. Brienne had always excelled at the sword and bow and arrow, but her favorite weapon was the morningstar. Knowing what marched for them, the smiths had fashioned Brienne one from the dragonglass mined from Dragonstone.

Putting the weapon into the added holder on her sword belt, Brienne stepped into the hallway in time to see Jaime frantically running towards her.

“Brienne. Please. Don’t do this. There has to be another way.”

With a pained sigh, Brienne shook her head. Her arms pulled Jaime tightly to her.

_If only he understood how little I want to do this. I have to._

“I’m sorry. I don’t wish to leave, but it’s the best way to ensure we win this war. Jon is meeting me in the yards. I just want to say goodbye to the babes.”

Jaime’s grip tightened as he placed urgent kisses to her neck, just below her ear. “Brienne. I can’t lose you. Please.”

“I’ll be back. I swear it.”

Pushing away from Jaime’s embrace, Brienne stepped quietly into the nursery. It was nothing she expected; to be called to leave her one moon old babes. Brienne knew the urgency in it though. It was the best way to protect them. To protect everyone.

She moved to the crib and looked lovingly down at the twins. With a warm smile, Brienne gently brushed the tops of their heads before stepping back. The look on Jaime’s face nearly broke Brienne when she turned towards the door.

He was distraught and standing in the doorway, framed by the candlelight from the hall. Brienne knew that she needed to leave before her resolve broke.

Slowly approaching the doorway, Brienne averted her eyes. The thought of never seeing them again was unbearable. Jaime’s hand slipped into hers as his forehead gently came to rest against her own.

They each took a deep breath, but then began to walk in silence towards the yards. The sound of dragons flying over the castle filled the Keep. Jaime’s grip on Brienne’s hand tightened with each step. When they were once more outside, Brienne looked to the night sky and watched as the dragons landed nearby.

Jon moved quickly onto Rhaegal as Viserion waited by his brother. With a shaky breath, Brienne walked towards the dragon. The dragons had recovered well from the last battle and the smiths had done a fine job with the harnesses.

Before climbing up, Brienne turned to Jaime one last time. A goodbye was at the tip of her tongue, but before she could speak, Jaime’s lips crashed into hers. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. A tear spilled from his eye and rolled between their cheeks which pressed close together.

“Don’t you dare say goodbye, wench. You’re coming right back. Just a midnight ride.”


	18. “They need each other”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn and Jaime deal with Brienne's and Jon's departure. King's Landing readies for the dead.

“What do you mean they left on the dragons!?” Catelyn grunted in frustration and paced the room while holding Galladon in her arms.

The young babe was crying as he awaited the wet nurse to finish feeding little Cat in the nursery. Apprehension gnawed at Catelyn as she considered Jon’s and Brienne’s departure.

_This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. We were supposed to have more time._

“You think I _wanted_ her to leave!? I begged her to stay.” Jaime’s despair was palpable, and Catelyn felt badly for lashing out at him. Looking to Galladon, she shushed the babe and bounced him lightly.

Their preparations for battle had been going well enough. The city would begin evacuating in a moon turn and with it, her children would depart for Tarth with the twins.

They had procured two wet nurses for the babes on Tarth, and Catelyn was confident that Tyrion and Sansa would do a fine job of keeping the babes safe.

A knock at the door captured Catelyn’s attention. The wet nurse stepped inside and spoke softly. “M’lady. Your Grace. Little Cat is asleep. I’ll feed Galladon now.”

With a warm smile, Catelyn walked towards the woman and gave her Galladon. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on Catelyn. Brienne was not her only concern. A deep worry for Jon had sunk in at the news.

The young man was always willing to head straight into danger for others. Catelyn worried that the two people headed towards death itself, were the most selfless and likely to do something rash for the greater good.

Turning to face Jaime, Catelyn saw him sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hand and stump. With needing to care for the twins, Jaime only wore the false hand when at court or small council meetings. The sight of his maiming reminded Catelyn of how deeply this was all hurting him.

The bond between Jaime and Brienne was one not found often in life. They seemed destined for one another, and their love was the type stories were inspired by. Walking to him, Catelyn sat at the edge of the bed and sighed.

“I know you’re afraid for her. Brienne is a smart young woman. She’ll be alright. Becoming a mother changes something inside a woman. She will be less reckless with her own life.”

“I can’t raise the twins without her. I’ll fuck it up.”

Catelyn placed a consoling arm around his shoulders. “You won’t be raising them alone. It will be alright. Lets go speak with the small council. We need to consider evacuating the city sooner.”

Not an hour later, Catelyn sat in the small council room between Jaime and Addam. Next to Jaime, Addam had become Catelyn’s second favorite person to pass time with. It had begun as a begrudging friendship on Catelyn’s part.

Addam enjoyed needling Catelyn and telling stories bound to make her gasp, but she had also come to know a different side of the man. When the situation called for it, Addam was strategic, mature, and considerate.

He was not rash, and Catelyn could see why he and Jaime made such good friends. They balanced one another well, and Addam gave sound advice.

The redheaded knight was also much more sensitive than he let on. It was another trait he shared with Jaime aside from incredible skill with a sword and a keen military mind. At night, Catelyn and Addam took to walking the gardens together to get some fresh air.

It started as a means to share updates on their respective areas of responsibility, but it blossomed into a genuine desire for companionship. Addam would tell tales of his time in the West and Catelyn told stories of the North. They were surprised to find how similar the fathers were.

Catelyn shared stories of growing up with Lysa; their invented language and mud pie creations. Addam shared tales of when he was a page at the Rock. He told of the trouble he and Jaime would get into that earned them Genna’s ire.

Now as she sat between her chosen brother and infuriatingly, endearing friend, Catelyn listened to Bran recount the update he gave Jaime and Brienne in the godswood. When he finished, Catelyn spoke to those amassed around the table.

“Tyrion and Sansa will be here within a week. We should send them to Tarth immediately with the twins. I would recommend at least two kingsguard as escort to watch over the heir to the throne.”

Brynden nodded from across the table. “Yes, we’ll send kingsguard. Lets send the rest of your children and Pod. They’re too young for this fight.”

“No. I must stay here.”

Bran’s voice made its way down the table. Before Catelyn could scoff at the words, Jaime spoke.

“We’ve had this argument already. You must go to Tarth. It isn’t safe for you here. You’ll go with your mother and siblings.”

_What!?_

Catelyn was aghast at the words. “No! I’m staying here. Those unable to flee the city will need to be housed in the Keep. I’ll oversee them.”

They had discussed the matter previously and Catelyn thought they were aligned. There were some in the city whose physical ailments would see them unable to evacuate safely. They would be in more danger on the road than cared for by healers and maesters at the Keep.

Both Addam and Jaime spoke at the same time.

“No.”

The two friends raised an amused brow at one another, but it was Addam who spoke. “You need to oversee things on Tarth. Keep an eye on your children and the twins. We can find anyone to oversee those in need of aid at the Keep.”

Piling onto Addam’s words, Jaime spoke at Catelyn’s left. “Missandei has asked to stay and help rather than evacuate. She spoke with Brienne and I just the other week of it. I agreed. It’s done.”

“My mother and I will stay. We have to.” Bran’s voice had an ominous tone to it that sent a chill down Catelyn’s spine. A heavy silence fell over the room as all eyes turned to Bran.

“The Night King will follow me wherever I go. He marked me.” Bran pulled back his sleeve to reveal a handprint on his forearm. Gasping at the sight of it, Catelyn jumped to her feet and ran to Bran.

“Gods! What is that!?”

A small smile tugged at Bran’s lips. “He came south for me. He is coming to King’s Landing for me. If you send me to Tarth, he’ll find a way to get to Tarth. If you send me to Essos, he will find a way to get there too. It has always been this way. He has hunted my predecessors; past Three-eyed ravens. He needs to destroy me.”

Panic consumed Catelyn as she looked into Bran’s eyes. “No. I won’t let him! He can’t have you!”

With a knowing smile, Bran nodded. “That’s why you’ll stay with me. You’ll guard me in the godswood where I must face him.”

“This is madness!” Jaime stood from his seat and glared at Catelyn and Bran. “You’re not fighters!”

Bran shook his head; his eyes drifting to Catelyn. “She’ll be alright. Becoming a mother changes something inside a woman.”

Catelyn’s own words from earlier made Jaime and Catelyn take pause. Their faces paled as Bran continued. “It’s amazing what a mother will do when her child is threatened. It’s that need to protect that makes them do incredible things; like flying on the back of dragon to meet death head on.”

“Me, Bronn, and the Gold Cloaks will defend Lady Catelyn and Lord Bran with our lives in the godswood. You have my word.”

Looking at Addam, Catelyn could see the resolve in his eyes. It was one of Addam’s rare moments of seriousness. With Addam at her side, Catelyn knew that she and Bran would be well guarded from whatever came their way.

“Thank you, Addam.”

Jaime paced like a madman. “This is absurd. I’m surrounded by people who don’t listen! What good is being the king?”

“You are merely being counseled, your Grace.” Catelyn’s tone dripped with sarcasm as their eyes met from across the room.

Standing from his seat, Brynden looked to Addam and Lord Paxter. “Lets gather the commanders and begin preparations. Even if it does take the dead two moons, there is much to do.”

Seeing Jaime’s distress at it all, Catelyn grabbed his arm and tugged him from the room. The situation was no easier for her with Jon _and_ Brienne gone, but she knew in her heart that they would return. She had to believe it, or else she might go insane as Jaime was.

They walked the halls and Catelyn tried to distract him, but Jaime wanted little more than to see his babes. It was endearing to see him attach so quickly to the children. Jaime was a good father, and he tried his hardest to care for the babes without aid.

As they arrived at the nursery, two men were quietly leaving the room and nodding to the kingsguard stationed outside the door. Catelyn’s brows furrowed slightly, but she did not fear the men’s intent given the kingsguard evidently let them in.

_By the gods, if they woke those babes._

“Apologies your grace. We were just dropping off the crib from the ship.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at the words. “What? What crib? What ship?”

The young man stammered slightly and looked to the man at his side. “From Tarth. The ship just arrived, and the captain said the crib and letter were to be taken to the Keep at once.”

Catelyn followed Jaime into the room as the men walked away. There, just feet from the first crib, was a second of similar quality and craftsmanship. A letter was inside that Jaime picked up and opened. Reading over his shoulder, Catelyn smiled at the missive from Brent.

_Your Grace. My Evenstar._

_Congratulations on the birth of your twins. Tarth is overjoyed at the news; particularly of our future king’s name. My Evenstar, your brother would be most honored and proud of you._

_I was so pleased when you wrote to ask for another crib. At your request, I’ve added the different etchings you requested instead of the House sigils._

_We couldn’t agree with your sentiment more. If the twins grow to be half the man their father is, all of Westeros will be proud and well-protected._

_Congratulations again. We can’t wait to meet the babes soon, though we wish it under better circumstances._

_Brent_

Catelyn looked to the side of the crib and teared up at the etchings. On one side was an intricate etching of Jaime facing a bear. On the other side was Jaime standing between Aerys and the city.

As Catelyn wiped at her eyes, she rubbed Jaime’s back and smiled widely. She knew of their fight and while she cringed at Brienne’s words to Jaime, she understood what Brienne meant to convey.

_Considering all the nastiness Jaime has said to her, the poor girl was owed one slip up._

Glancing at Jaime, Catelyn could see him biting his lip and doing a poor job of masking his own emotions. Leaning against him, Catelyn spoke warmly and whispered so as not to disturb the sleeping babes.

“I told you that Brienne is proud of you and thinks you a good man. Dolt.”

Jaime shrugged as though he hadn’t been hurt by Brienne’s words, but Catelyn knew him better than that. Keeping his voice low, Jaime feigned at disgust.

“What are you crying for? Gods, Catelyn. Such a girl.”

Catelyn snorted and pushed him hard in the arm. “Shut up. You’re crying too.”

“No, I’m not. It’s the bloody cold seeping in from this shit weather. Makes my eyes and nose a proper mess.” 

Catelyn chuckled and hummed in contrived agreement. Moving to the crib where the babes slept peacefully, Catelyn picked up little Galladon and moved him to the new crib. She stepped back and smiled warmly at the sight.

As if sensing one another’s absence, each twin began to whimper from their respective cribs.

_Oh gods. Truly?_

Immediately seeing their distress, Jaime moved Galladon back and smiled down at the babes when they quieted.

“They’re still too young. Brienne had the right of it. They need each other.”


	19. "This one suits me fine"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime receives word of Brienne's and Jon's efforts to the west.

Jaime sat beside Bran in the godswood and tore blades of grass out of the ground in frustration. A cool, winter breeze rattled the leaves of the trees above, and the distant sound of the city’s evacuation filled the air. It had been two days since Brienne and Jon left to thwart the efforts of an undead Daenerys and Drogon. Two days since Jaime felt as though he could breathe properly.

Glancing at Bran, Jaime could see the whites of his eyes. The young man sat rigid with his broken legs stretched out before him. Everything about Bran was still except his hair as it blew in the wind. Jaime sighed and looked to the sky.

“You’re doing this on purpose, I bet. You’ve already found them and have instead decided to continue flying straight to Essos for a nice day at the beach. You’re very rude, Brandon Stark.”

Approaching footsteps interrupted Jaime’s prattling at an otherwise absent Bran. Looking over his shoulder, Jaime saw Catelyn stomping towards the godswood with Edmure at her back.

Earlier that morning, scouts sent word of Edmure’s approach to the city. He brought with him Lord Robin who would be taken to Tarth by Lord Royce.

The siblings appeared to be bickering about something which Jaime had no context of. A small smile tugged at his lips when he noted the scowl on Catelyn’s face.

_Good. Let someone else piss her off for once._

As they neared, Catelyn glanced hopefully to Jaime. “Any word yet?”

“No. He’s still flying about; likely somewhere over the Dothraki Sea. I think Bran forgot that even if he leaves us here in misery, his body is still quite present.”

With a heavy sigh, Catelyn sat down beside Jaime. She whispered for his ears only. “Edmure is irritating me already.”

At Catelyn’s unoccupied side, Edmure bowed to Jaime before sitting beside his sister. “King Jaime. Has my sister told you of her absurd plans for battle?”

Jaime snorted at the words and raised an amused brow at Edmure; leaning forward to see around Catelyn.

“Has she always sought to rival your uncle as the most stubborn Tully, or is this a new character flaw?”

A hard punch to his arm elicited a yelp from Jaime. Catelyn offered a warning glare, but Jaime could not contain the laughter escaping his lips. “Shut up, Jaime. You’re no better than Edmure. You’re both the definition of annoying little brothers.”

Edmure produced a small flask from his jerkin and took a long swig. Offering it to Jaime, he smirked. “Go on then _brother_. It’s the only way I’ve learned to cope with her. At least I get someone to be miserable with.”

Taking a sip from the flask, Jaime considered their options. “Between the two of us, I’m almost certain we could tie her to the mast of the ship setting out for Tarth.”

Edmure hummed in consideration. “I’d give her an hour on the ship before she comes swimming to the port with a mast strapped to her back.”

“I hate you both. I’m to find new brothers when this is done with.”

Jaime snickered to himself at the sight of Catelyn’s indignant scowl. Before he could needle her further, Bran’s eyes rolled forward, and Jaime felt his breath catch.

“It’s over. Jon and Brienne are on the way back.”

The words seemed to lift an unseen weight from Jaime’s chest. He could breathe again, and the knowledge that Brienne was returning to him sent Jaime’s heart galloping.

“What happened?” Catelyn’s question brought Jaime’s attention back to Bran.

“They met Daenerys and Drogon in the sky over Ironman’s Bay. She had been cutting a path straight towards the West when they found her. It was a vicious battle and the dragons are wounded, but Drogon now rests at the bottom of the sea.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide; a ray of hope sparked within.

_We can win this. They’ve lost the dragon._

“What happened? How did they kill him?” A thousand questions were humming through Jaime’s mind. He had to refrain from asking them all so that Bran could provide more immediate answers.

“At one point, Drogon flew east towards land. His right wing was nearly torn through by Rhaegal, and he needed to touch done. Before he could do so, the dragons again engaged him over Whispering Woods. When Drogon went belly-up midflight, Daenerys fell from the dragon. Rhaegal and Viserion managed to pull Drogon back west and just over the sea. That is when Brienne felled Drogon.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide at Bran’s words. The young man’s monotone voice continued to describe the ordeal.

“She leapt from her dragon midflight when Viserion and Drogon were locked in battle. Brienne nearly fell, but she managed to hold on and bludgeon Drogon’s eye and snout with her dragonglass morningstar. They plummeted into the sea, but the dragon broke their fall. The impact would have killed her otherwise. She is fine, albeit rather cold.”

A small smile tugged at Bran’s lips as Jaime sat slack jawed listening to him. After letting the information wash over him, a maddened laugh ripped through Jaime as he looked to Catelyn.

“That’s my wife! She killed a fucking dragon. Gods I love her. This is so much sexier than when she killed those Stark men.”

“Oh, do shut up. I found her first, Jaime. You’ve merely stolen her from me.”

Jaime chuckled as he stood from the ground and looked down at Catelyn. “Yes, well, I’m far more charming than you. Also better looking and bearing a cock which helps.”

“More charming!? Gods. Your attempt at courting was the worst I’ve ever seen. Were it not for me, she might have killed you or married someone far less troublesome.”

Whatever Catelyn was rambling about, Jaime hardly cared. His wife had killed a dragon and he intended to tell everyone who would listen; even those who wouldn’t.

_I’m the king. I can make anyone listen to my stories. Finally, a use for this stupid crown._

Bending down, Jaime hoisted Bran onto his back and began moving quickly towards the Keep. Catelyn and Edmure walked at Jaime’s side as he halfheartedly reprimanded the young Stark.

“We need to work on your shit delivery of such incredible tales. It needs something more gripping.”

At Jaime’s back, Bran smirked and huffed a small laugh. “Like interpretive dance?”

“Yes! See, now you’re thinking. Mayhap we start with something simpler though. We should work on your tone. It’s called _inflection_ , Bran.”

In a lilt far too akin to Bran’s monotone voice, Edmure offered his own input at Jaime’s side. “There is still the matter of defeating death itself. It’s merely one less dragon.”

Jaime stopped walking and stared at Edmure aghast. “She killed an undead dragon, Edmure! What have you don’t today aside from riding about on your little horse?”

Edmure glanced at Jaime before raising a brow at Catelyn. The man’s lack of appreciation for Brienne’s skill miffed Jaime. Jaime spoke again, drawing Edmure’s attention back to him.

“What? Did the horse charge across a field and kick up mud at your pretty boots? Gods you Tullys have no appreciation for Lannister courage. We fight bears and dragons to keep our teeth sharp.”

Catelyn guffawed at Jaime’s side. “Do you see Edmure? This is what I’ve been enduring for years now.”

After entering the Keep and regaling nearly every castle occupant with tales of Brienne’s dragonslaying, Jaime visited the nursery to tell the twins of their mother’s exploits. The babes were not as captive an audience, but Jaime acted out the scene as best he could.

When Jaime soon realized the babes had fallen asleep in their crib, he sat on the floor nearby and looked at the missive from Brent once more. He had no intention of burning the letter after having read it. Instead, Jaime would keep it with the cribs for his babes to pass on to their own children someday.

Without intending to, Jaime fell asleep for some time. It was not until he heard the nursery door open that he woke up. Judging by the dwindling light in the room, it was clear that the hour had grown late. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Jaime looked up to see the most beautiful sight in all his life.

Brienne stood in the doorway looking weary and cold. Her hair was in disarray and her cheeks flush from wind. Leaping to his feet, Jaime barreled into her. An overwhelming desperation to hold Brienne close and never let her go coursed through Jaime.

“I was so scared. You killed a dragon, wench! You’re incredible.”

The cold was emitting off Brienne, as her frozen nose pressed into his neck. Jaime held her closer and breathed in her scent.

“I’ll call for a bath.”

Brienne shook her head and sighed. “Lady Catelyn called for one. The attendants are bringing water. I wanted to see you and the babes.”

“They’re sleeping. The wet nurse fed them just before I attempted to tell them tales of their mother’s bravery. They aren’t a very attentive audience.”

Pulling her to the babes, Jaime smiled as they looked down into the crib. Brienne sagged in relief, but her eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on the second crib.

“Good. It arrived. You should have put Galladon in the new crib.”

Jaime followed Brienne’s eyeline; a smile tugging at his lips.

“My wife had the right of it. They’re more comfortable together. We’ll use it when they get a bit bigger.”

Brienne’s face betrayed her unease as she appraised him. It was clear that she feared upsetting him or making him feel forced.

“Jaime. If it makes you more comfortable…”

Putting up a hand, Jaime shook his head and cut her off. “No, it’s fine. Lets get you in the bath.”

Jaime kept a smile on his face, but he was crying with relief internally. The bed had been unbearably empty for the last two nights, and Jaime didn’t think he could have endured another sleep without her. Jaime would reach out for her in sleep, but quickly wake to little more than cold sheets at his side.

There was a slight hesitation on Brienne’s face as she looked to the babes.

“When did they last feed? I feel like I might explode; it hurts so much. Lady Catelyn says that I should feed each of them when they wake to help the pain.”

Jaime’s eyes dropped to Brienne’s chest. Without thinking, he reached for a breast and gave a delicate squeeze. His eyes went wide at the size of them. They seemed so full and firm. At his touch, Brienne winced and batted him away.

“Don’t. It hurts so much.”

_Gods. They’re massive. I need to see them._

“We should definitely get you into the bath so that I can enjoy the view.”

Brienne hit Jaime hard on the arm. With a scoff, she shook her head and looked back to the babes. It was evident that her breasts were bothering her from the lack of breastfeeding for two days.

“They ate before I fell asleep in here. I don’t actually know how long ago that was. Hours… days… I only care that Catelyn left me alone. Mayhap she couldn’t find me. I should hide in here more often.”

Pulling Brienne into the hallway, Jaime noted the attendants leaving their room. The Kingsguard stood outside the nursery as they stepped outside.

Ser Balon smiled widely and nodded. “My queen. Our dragonsalyer.”

The Hound huffed a laugh and smirked. “You’re a fucking crazy cunt.”

As Jaime tugged her to their room, he glanced to Brienne and shrugged at her perplexed expression.

“I may have shared your deeds with a few people.”

When they entered the room, Jaime smiled at the sight steam rising off the bath. It reminded him of Harrenhal and an image of Brienne standing naked in righteous rage. The memory went straight to his cock.

Jaime helped Brienne out of her clothing and guided her into the tub. She looked incredible, but her cold skin was a reminder of the ordeal she had been through.

Brienne sank into the water with a loud sigh; the water lapping at her shoulders as she lowered further. As she closed her eyes and began asking after the state of the city, Jaime began to undress behind her.

A wide smile stretched across his lips as he moved towards the bath. Pushing her shoulders forward, Jaime watched as Brienne’s eyes flew open.

“What are you doing?”

_Harrenhal indeed._

“Having a bath.”

“There’s no room.” Brienne’s eyes were wide as Jaime stepped into the tub behind her. The water splashed out of the sides rapidly as he sank into the water with a contented sigh.

“It’s perfect. This one suits me fine.”


	20. "Oh fuck me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dead arrive two moons later and the battle begins.

Jaime stood beside the Hound, Ser Balon, and Ser Boros as they stared out into the darkness of night. Roughly 80,000 living soldiers stood before the city gates. It was the quietest that Jaime had ever heard King’s Landing.

Overhead, the dragons and their riders circled the city, waiting for the signal to attack. It had been two moons since Brienne saw Drogon’s body to the bottom of the sea. Now, the living came together to defeat the rest of the Night King’s army.

A cold chill blew from the north as Jaime stood atop the battlements. He inwardly cursed Tyrion’s position on Tarth. Only a week after Brienne felled Drogon, Tyrion and Sansa had arrived at the capital.

Jaime had been thrilled to see his brother. It was helpful to have another family member present who understood Jaime’s trepidation at having boy-girl twins.

Tyrion understood that while Jaime loved Galladon and Catelyn with every fiber of his being, Jaime feared the twins having the same fate as he and Cersei.

_“Jaime. Those twins are not you and Cersei. You know how I struggled to understand what you had with Cersei, but I do believe that it was born out of your desperate need for love and affection coupled with Cersei’s madness. Galladon and Catelyn are not mad, nor will they want for love. You and Brienne have already shown them more love in their first moon of life, than our father showed us in a lifetime. Do not despair over it. Just enjoy them. They are wonderful. A bit loud… but wonderful.”_

It had also been wonderful to see his little brother so smitten by his wife. For some time, Jaime worried that Tyrion would not recover from his prior loves. When he saw Tyrion beginning to fall for Sansa, Jaime worried that Tyrion’s love would be unrequited.

Jaime first noticed the telltale signs of Tyrion’s deepening affections for Sansa during their travels north with Catelyn and Brienne. Fortunately, Jaime’s worries had been unfounded. The young wolf adored Tyrion and seemed as happy as with her husband as Brienne seemed with Jaime.

Tyrion and Sansa had planned to leave for Tarth not long after arriving. Their plans changed once the pair saw how distraught Brienne was at the prospect of the twins’ departure.

As such, they stayed longer than the rest of the castle occupants who made haste for Tarth. They left only a fortnight ago with three kingsguard to protect Westeros’ future.

Jaime was incredibly thankful for their delayed departure as it afforded Jaime and Brienne more time with their babes. It also gave Brienne time to slowly ween the babes. After her last ordeal, Brienne didn’t wish to experience another painful absence from the babes.

It was the part that hurt the most; watching Brienne weep silently as she fed the babes less and less. Jaime had tried to offer comfort, but Brienne was inconsolable.

_“Another woman will feed my babes. The Night King is depriving me of this time with them. It’s the only joy to come from their nighttime waking.”_

Seeing the babes off at the docks had been unbearable. Jaime didn’t want to let go of Galladon, and Brienne had the same issue turning Cat over to Sansa’s awaiting arms. With a sympathetic smile, Sansa had gripped Brienne’s arm.

_“I’ll love them as much as I’ll love their cousin. You have my word.”_

The swell at Sansa’s belly was proof enough that the twins would hardly be alone on Tarth. Gal and Cat would soon have a companion to keep the castle’s occupants awake all night.

Brienne and Jaime had sat on the dock in companionable silence until they could no longer see the sails in the horizon. It was Brienne who had broken the quiet.

_“I’ll kill the Night King twice over for robbing us of this time with our babes. For robbing me of feeding them myself at night.”_

Brienne’s face had been filled with resolve as she spoke more to herself than Jaime.

Now as Jaime glanced to the night sky, he smiled knowing that his wife would lead the way. The light from her dragon’s fiery breath would show the living where the enemy was. Brienne and Viserion would show the living how they could beat death.

Footsteps captured Jaime’s attention as he turned to see Bronn at his side. “Gold Cloaks are with ya crazy fuckin’ Tully friends. The Blackfish is already bitchin’ at all of them to not fuck up.”

Jaime snorted and nodded at Bronn. “Sounds about right. What of the archers?”

“Aye. They’re ready to go.”

Jaime nodded once more at Bronn’s words and turned back to the field before him. Another cool breeze blew in and caused the flames to dance in the torches adorning the city gates.

“You ready Sandor? Time to play with your favorite weapon. Lets set the enemy ablaze.”

With an unimpressed huff, the Hound bellowed down the line. “Tell the queen to do her thing. I don’t want those dead fucks anywhere near me if they’re on fire.”

Commands were shouted down the line to the field and those manning the trebuchets. Within moments, the near thirty trebuchets facing the enemy were sending barrels full of tar straight at the dead.

Based on the dead’s position, Jaime did not expect to hit much of the enemy’s ranks. Instead they aimed to cover the front lines and ground in tar which the dragons’ breath and the archers would ignite. The substance could burn for hours and serve as a natural obstacle to the dead charging in from the rear.

Similarly, a trench had been dug the length of the city gates. The hot tar had been poured inside and the archers would light the trenches if the dragons weren’t able to double back and aid their effort.

With Tarth’s archers on point, Jaime was hardly worried about precision. He was more worried about having sufficient tar in the trenches to ensure they burned the duration of the battle. As the barrels crashed into wights and soil, flaming arrows flew through the night sky.

At the signal from the trebuchets and archers, Brienne went whizzing by overhead on Viserion with Rhaegal close behind. A smile stretched across Jaime’s face as he watched her blonde hair blowing in the wind.

“This is like a morning ride for her. She killed a godsdamn dragon. Did I tell you all that?”

Collective groans filled the space around Jaime. At his side, Bronn snorted. “Oh, I ain’t heard that tale in damn near over a day now. By all means, regale us again.”

A wide smile stretched across Jaime’s face. Before he could recount the tale once more, Jaime stilled at the sight of Viserion and Rhaegal torching the dead below. As the dragonfire caught the tar and wights, the battlefield was illuminated, and the full strength of the Night King’s army could be seen from the battlements. They seemed to stretch on for eternity and Jaime gasped at the sight.

_Gods. That is well more than 100,000._

It seemed that Jaime was hardly the only one with the thought. Another eerie silence had fallen over the living as the distant cries of burning wights filled the night sky. As the wights recovered and surged forward, Jaime watched Viserion and Rhaegal continue to cut paths through the enemy’s ranks.

Jaime hoped to see the dragons reduce the Night King’s army by half, which would put them on equal footing. From what Bran and Jon described, the wights were chaotic fighters. They pushed forward with little strategy and skill. It was the White Walkers and the Night King they needed to concern themselves with.

In the distance, Jaime heard the familiar call to the archers. They would next light the trenches that stretched before the ranks of the living.

At the call to fire at will, Jaime watched hundreds of Tarth arrows sail towards the trenches. As expected, each hit its mark. The trenches lit up quickly and further slowed the dead’s progress, allowing the dragons to continue to spew fire onto the dead below.

A slight smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. The plan was working and already one-third of the Night King’s army was ablaze. There was a strange stillness to the dead as they stood before the blazing trenches. Unexpectedly, the dead began stepping into the trenches.

Shrill cries lifted into the black of night. Not before long, the wights began falling into the pit by the hundreds, forming a bridge of flame-engulfed, decaying bodies.

Writhing wights enabled those at the rear to begin to cross. It was a shocking sight and sent Jaime’s heart racing as his adrenaline increased in response. His hand twitched at his side; eager to unsheathe his sword and lay waste to the dead.

Jaime’s blade was the only valyrian steel not at the godswood. Jon had given the Blackfish his blade; Longclaw. Catelyn held the valyrian steel blade that was once in Littlefinger’s possession. Sam Tarly had given Addam his family’s ancestral sword; Heartsbane. Brienne had given Ser Brent her sword.

_Ser Brent. Gods keep him safe._

Once all the refugees were secured at Tarth, Ser Brent led Tarth’s soldiers to King’s Landing. He wished to fight at Brienne’s side, but when Brent heard that his Evenstar would take the battle from the skies, he thought better of it. Instead, he swore to protect Lady Catelyn and Bran as though they were his own kin.

For Jaime, it was an unwelcome thought that anyone other than Brienne would wield his sword’s twin, but if it had to be someone, Jaime was glad it was Brent. It was obvious how important the man was to Brienne; a chosen brother of sorts.

Jaime had been both happy and displeased at Brent’s presence. As someone whose chosen sister was standing defiantly in the godswood, Jaime understand the stress that Brent’s presence placed on Brienne.

No casualty was desired in war, but the thought of harm befalling their loved ones terrified them both. Were it not for the group in the godswood awaiting death’s arrival, Jaime would have been on the front lines. Instead, Jaime positioned himself between the army and the godswood, ready to run to provide aid if necessary.

Jaime’s attention was brought back to the battle. Wights set ablaze stumbled towards the living soldiers. Their undead brethren not yet ablaze were at their sides. When the dead met the awaiting dragonglass weapons of the living’s soldiers, it looked more like a wave cresting onto shore.

Jaime struggled to see the frontlines as the living were overrun. Scream of living and dead filled the air and rattled even the most season commanders to Jaime’s left and right. The dragons continued to circle the skies in the distance and they soon edged closer towards the city gates.

It was apparent that Jon and Brienne saw the threat, and they sought to take out more of the dead already upon the living. Glancing down, Jaime saw the living soldiers doing their best to fight off the throngs of wights.

The battle seemed to rage for an eternity, and the sound of the dead was unnerving. It was unlike anything that Jaime had heard before. He imagined the sound would haunt his dreams alongside Aerys’ mad ramblings and the smell of flesh burning in wildfire.

The dead let out shrill cries and terrible gnashing sounds. Whatever urged them forward was driven by something unnatural. Shouting to the commanders at his left and right, Jaime gave the command.

“Ready the barrels!”

Similar to the barrels launched by the trebuchets, these barrels were set atop the battlement walls and was filled to the brim with hot tar. When the dead reached the wall, the tar would be dumped onto them and the archers would set the liquid ablaze.

The living soldiers had been instructed not to stand within twenty feet of the city gates to ensure they were not touched by the tar nor flames. If they needed to regain entry to the city, they would need to do so at the Mud Gate. Jaime needed to keep the other gates closed off to the dead.

As the dead began to climb over the living and swarm the city walls, Jaime looked down in shock at how many there still were. With little objective other than pushing forward, the dead began to stack atop one another in a desperate bid to get inside the city.

At Jaime’s command, the tar-filled barrels were dumped onto the wights below. Without affording the wights time to recover from the onslaught of hot tar, Tarth’s archers were already firing blazing arrows at the dead.

Towers of flaming wights fell backwards and onto the scores of living and dead below. Jaime muttered obscenities as the next wave of wights quickly moved to replace their flaming comrades. Then Jaime heard it.

A piercing cry lifted over the rest of the battle. Looking to the sky in panic, Jaime saw one of the dragons falling rapidly towards the ground below. Jaime felt his heart still in his chest at the sight.

At his side, the Hound spoke in naught but a whisper. “Oh fuck me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a three part battle - Jaime POV, Brienne POV, Catelyn POV. Sorry for the cliffhanger. Oops


	21. "Now stay dead"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne has a role to play in the battle as she rides on Viserion's back.

Brienne had circled over the city several times before the battle began. A deep unease pooled in her core as she considered the group in the godswood. It had been a tense two moons between Catelyn and Jaime.

In the weeks preceding the battle, Jaime attempted to send Catelyn off to Tarth before the dead’s arrival. Some of his approaches were more absurd than others. On one of his particularly ridiculous days, Jaime tried to lure Catelyn into a shipping crate bound for Tarth.

Catelyn had been so confused at the near empty crate in the courtyard that she almost fell for it.

_“Jaime. What is this for? What is that? Are those lemon cakes?”_

As Catelyn peered into the box, Jaime hoisted her inside and quickly closed the lid; sitting on the crate like a triumphant trapper. He took a proper beating that night.

_“Why didn’t you remind me not to enrage a Tully woman, Brienne? Truly. You know I can’t remember these things on my own.”_

As the memories floated through Brienne’s mind, she saw the signal in the distance. The arrows sailed into the night sky and Brienne urged Viserion forward. Surging forward into battle, Brienne gave the command to Viserion. Viserion scorched the enemy below, but Brienne worried over the living soldiers soon overrun outside the gates.

At a point, Brienne could stomach it no longer and directed Viserion back towards the frontlines to aid the men. Taking out as many wights as she could, Brienne saw something out of the corner of her eye. She had never seen the Night King before, but his physical appearance was clue enough of his identity.

Moving slowly through the throngs of wights, the White Walkers and the Night King came into view; engulfed in a light mist of snow flurries. From their dead mounts, they looked on at the chaos before them with blank expressions.

_That godsdamned creature. I’ll kill him off myself for this nonsense._

Directing Viserion towards the Night King, Brienne appraised the enemy. As Viserion flew rapidly towards the target, Brienne eyed the Night King and spoke angrily as her eyes narrowed in determination.

“Dracarys!”

Flames engulfed the Night King and his generals. As Brienne glanced over her shoulder, all she could see was fire. Not far behind her was Rhaegal. Jon had followed her lead and appeared to be making a second pass at the Night King. Then she saw it.

A fast-moving spear went hurtling towards Rhaegal. Unable to avoid the blow in time, Rhaegal took a spear through the throat which sent the dragon careening towards the ground. A stream of blood poured from Rhaegal’s neck as the dragon cried out in pain.

_Gods! Jon!_

Brienne urged Viserion around as she watched Rhaegal skid past the Night King and his commanders. A desperation to get to Jon consumed Brienne. They were well beyond the city gates and Jon would be overrun in moments if he survived the crash.

As Viserion touched down near his fallen brother, Brienne was relieved to see the dragon had hit the ground on its belly and slid forward. Thankfully, that kept Jon alive, albeit dazed, from the impact.

Seeing that Rhaegal was dead, Brienne’s heart began to hammer with worry. She glanced up and saw that the fire had little effect on the Night King and his generals. They turned their mounts and began to slowly move towards Jon and Rhaegal.

“Jon! Quickly! You have to come with me!”

As Jon shook the haze from his head, he glanced back and saw the approaching threat. The Night King was handed another spear from a nearby general. Brienne’s eyes went wide as she looked back to Jon.

“Hurry!”

Moving quickly from the saddle, Jon slid to the ground and ran towards Brienne. She outstretched her hand and hoisted him up as she commanded Viserion into the sky. Just as Viserion was off the ground, a spear whizzed by the dragon’s side and cut through one of its wings.

Viserion cried out in pain and faltered. His ascent into the sky slowed, and Brienne looked back at the ground. The Night King was readying another spear as Brienne urged Viserion higher.

With just enough velocity and distance between them, the Night King’s next spear missed its mark. Jon’s arm wrapped tightly around Brienne on account of the dragon’s angle in the sky. As Viserion leveled off, Brienne again glanced at the ground.

An unmistakable figure came to the Night King’s side. Daenerys. The undead Targaryen mounted the dragon as the Night King lifted his hands into the air. An eerie silence fell over the battle as dead soldiers and a fallen dragon were given life anew.

_Gods. We gave them another dragon._

As Brienne made her way towards the city gates, she commanded Viserion to unleash more fire onto the wights below. Roughly half of the Night King’s army had fallen to flames by that point in the battle. It was a number the living stood a chance again.

Turning her head slightly, Brienne spoke to Jon. “I’ll need to drop you off at the godswood.”

The young man nodded in understanding as they flew back over the city gates. A pair of frantic green eyes appraised Viserion and the riders from the battlements atop the city gates. When Brienne’s eyes met Jaime’s, she saw him nearly crumple in relief.

As Viserion neared the godswood, Brienne glanced at his wing. The tear in the webbing of his wing was causing a slight instability to his flight. Air pushed hard against the wounded wing and threatened to unbalance him with every strong gust of wind blowing in from the north.

When the dragon touched down, concerned eyes looked to Brienne and Jon. Without a word, Jon slide down and ran to them. He unsheathed his dragonglass sword as Brienne urged Viserion back to the sky.

In the distance, Brienne could see Rhaegal moving quickly towards the city.

_I must cut their path off. I need to protect the living rather than lessen the dead’s numbers._

Viserion cried out as the dragon approached its undead brother. Bracing for impact, Brienne watched as each dragon pulled up slight to meet talons first. As they fought above scores of living and dead soldiers, Brienne caught sight of Daenerys.

Her appearance was even more horrifying now than moons prior. Bright blue eyes shone with cold purpose. The hole in Daenerys’ neck was packed over with a dark sludge, and her skin was white as freshly fallen snow.

As the dragons dragged their claws down each other’s bellies, Brienne glanced to the field below. The Night King and his generals were moving purposefully towards the city gates. From his seat on his dead mount, the Night King was handed another spear.

The creature’s head snapped to the sky above and his eyes locked on Brienne. Knowing what was to come next, Brienne had to quickly direct Viserion away from Rhaegal. Guiding the dragon to the east, Brienne felt, but did not see, a spear whizz by her head.

When she circled Viserion around, Brienne’s eyes went wide in panic. Daenerys was headed straight towards the city gates. Blue flames poured down on the field below and soon reached the battlements themselves.

_Jaime!_

Soldiers went scrambling left and right to avoid the fiery blaze. A massive hole was ripped through the city wall and the dead began to spill inside; paving a path for their king. As Brienne directed Viserion back towards battle, she watched in horror as Rhaegal and Daenerys carved a path straight towards the godswood.

The fear in Brienne’s voice was palpable as she urged Viserion forward. As they passed over the city gates, Brienne frantically scanned the battlements below for Jaime. It was chaos as soldiers scrambled away from a large section where the gate once stood.

In the distance, Brienne saw Daenerys’s long, silver hair billowing in the wind. There was a stillness to the destruction that she and Rhaegal were unleashing on the city below.

_Thank the gods we evacuated. They are being destructive for the sake of it._

Brienne’s dragon had the slight edge in speed. As Rhaegal neared the castle, Viserion had just caught up. A stream of blue flames continued to spew from Rhaegal’s mouth and neck. Flames poured onto the courtyard and entrance to the Keep below. With a loud cry, Viserion sank his teeth into Rhaegal’s tail.

The assault caught the wight dragon unaware. Daenerys’ head snapped back to Brienne; an icy glare etched across her face. As Rhaegal rounded on Viserion, flames continued to spray from its neck despite its snout clamping shut.

The wight dragon’s talons reached for his brother as Brienne clung closely at Viserion’s back. She could feel the heat of Rhaegal’s flames lapping against Viserion’s belly and the Keep below.

As Viserion tore into Rhaegal’s neck once more, the wight dragon began to fall backwards into the Keep. Pieces of the castle stonework went falling to the courtyard below.

The dragon’s talons reached out for purchase and grabbed at one of the castle’s many spires. As Rhaegal balanced itself, the dragon cried out; more blue flame pouring from its throat and mouth.

The dead dragon’s reprieve was short, as Viserion went barreling back into him. As if sensing Brienne’s control over his brother, Rhaegal lifted from the spire and instead tried to take aim at Brienne. Blue flames reached out for Brienne as Viserion veered left and crashed hard into the side of the Keep.

Brienne was nearly jostled from her saddle at the impact, but she held tight and tried to direct Viserion away from Rhaegal’s incoming assault. Moving quickly from the side of the castle, Viserion just dodged another wave of blue flames. The castle began to succumb to the impact from the dragons and their flames.

Large pieces of the castle crumbled to the ground below as the dragons continued their battle over the Keep.

_I need to keep Rhaegal away from Bran and the others. I need to keep them safe._

With Rhaegal’s full attention on his brother, Brienne urged Viserion further east over the castle and away from the godswood. As she hoped, Rhaegal gave chase. Swiveling in and out of spires, Brienne glanced back and saw Rhaegal clip the side of a tower with his wing.

The tower began to crumble from the force as Rhaegal breathed more blue flame in Viserion’s direction. At her hips, Brienne caught sight of her dragonglass morningstar and a dragonglass sword.

_I need to ground them somehow._

Brienne’s mind was awhirl with ideas until she made her decision. Taking a long loop around the Keep, Brienne glanced back to ensure Daenerys and Rhaegal were still in pursuit. With a knowing grin on her face, Brienne commanded Viserion to the ground near the entrance to the castle.

Her mind was frantic with the commands she learned from Missandei. First, Brienne needed to keep the dragons away from the Maidenvault where Missandei and maesters were caring for the infirmed and vulnerable. Second, Brienne needed to keep Rhaegal from the godswood.

In valyrian, Brienne commanded Viserion to hold steady. The dragon moved impatiently on its hindlegs at the sight of its brother speeding towards them. As the dragon charged closer with blue flames dancing wildly from its neck, Brienne again commanded Viserion to hold.

At the last moment possible before Rhaegal crashed into them, Brienne commanded Viserion to the sky.

“Sovetes!”

Moving quickly from the ground, Viserion lifted into the air just as Rhaegal’s snout clipped his brother’s tail. The wight dragon crashed through the castle entrance. Brienne’s eyes went wide as the impact sent brick and stone tumbling down; a massive hole now replacing the castle entrance. 

With the front of the castle in ruin, only the end of the dragon’s tail could be seen from below the rubble. Blue flame sprayed out wildly as the dragon struggled below mounds of brick and stone. Brienne commanded Viserion down as she unsheathed her sword.

As she slid down from the dragon, Brienne climbed atop the mound of debris and into the opening of the castle. She waved her hand before her face as she squinted to see past the dust. As her eyes adjusted, Brienne was shocked at the sight before her.

Rhaegal’s snout nearly reached the front of the throne room as its massive body struggled under piles of brick. His flames spread throughout the area and illuminated the space in a deathly blue. Then she saw it.

The slightest movement of stone alerted Brienne to the location of Daenerys’ trapped body. Brienne stomped forward, slipping slightly atop the unstable bricks. As she neared her target, Brienne began moving piles of brick away with her free hand.

When Brienne caught sight of Daenerys, she grimaced at the undead queen’s state. Her skull had nearly split in two under the debris and her body was broken in several places. Standing upright, Brienne glared down and raised her dragonglass sword high.

Thrusting the blade down hard into the Night King’s queen, Brienne screamed loudly in a mix of frustration and triumph.

“Now stay dead!”


	22. “Stay with me”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catelyn POV of the battle.

Catelyn stood in the godswood staring up at the horrifying sight of dragons dueling the sky. The great beasts collided into one another and spewed hot flames in all direction. Parts of the Keep began crumbling to the ground, and Catelyn wondered what would be left of the city when the battle was done.

_Will it matter? The Night King may hold court over rubble and death._

Knowing that Brienne was directly in harm’s way gnawed at her. She sent a silent prayer to the Seven that Brienne would not join the Night King’s ranks.

_I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t thrust my blade into her, even if it meant my own life. She’s my daughter in all but name._

Then the Gold Cloaks began shouting orders to ready their weapons. An otherworldly sound met Catelyn’s ears, as her shaking hand unsheathed the valyrian steel dagger. It was like nothing that Catelyn had heard before. An awful gnashing sound echoed off the trees in the godswood.

“Behind! They’re coming from all angles!”

Brynden called to the men as they moved into a circular formation. They had roughly thirty Gold Cloaks, Brynden, Edmure, Addam, Jon, and Brent to hold them off. According to Bran, the final encounter with the Night King was inevitable. It was merely a matter of who would be left in his path by the time he arrived.

Taking a protective stance before Bran, Catelyn called out. “By the gods, Bran. No more flying now! You stay put. I need you conscious if we need a new plan.”

_A new plan. And what will I do? Pick up and carry my son who is twice my size now? Jaime had the right of it. I should have sent Bran to Tarth._

The horrible gnashing sound was soon joined by the rustling of leaves and cracking of twigs. Wights began to appear in all directions and Catelyn held her breath as the enemy stumbled forward. They were mindless creatures with little strategy or direction. All they seemed to thirst for was adding more to their ranks and getting to Bran.

Catelyn watched the battle play out around her. The Gold Cloaks seemed competent enough, but some were mere boys. As a mother, her heart broke knowing that most would not last the night. Within a moment, her worry was proven true.

A young man cried out in pain as a wight shredded at his face. Wads of skin tore away, exposing tendons and bone. Catelyn winced at the sight and averted her eyes. All she could picture was Bran being under a wight’s grasp. Bran was likely no older than the boy on the ground of the godswood now.

To Catelyn’s right, another scream from a living soldier rippled through the air. Glancing towards the source of the scream, Catelyn saw another Gold Cloak fall. This one was a slightly older man; likely Brienne’s age. She had seen him around the Keep on many occasions. He was a new father.

_How many children will wake up fatherless when this battle is done? How many will wake up at all? Will it matter?_

A loud battle cry that Catelyn could never mistake reached her ears. Her uncle. Brynden screamed at the Gold Cloaks to form a tighter formation.

“Hurry boys! These miserable shits aren’t even the true enemy. They’re sacks of worthless bones! The real fight is coming!”

_The real fight?_

Then she saw it. A cloud of snow flurries led the way of lifeless, blue eyes, white hair, and frozen skin. These creatures were larger than the wights and far more intimidating. There were roughly a dozen of them leading their king. The odds were not in the living’s favor.

Brynden called out to Addam, Jon, Brent, and Edmure. They were the best fighters in the godswood, and the living’s greatest chance at survival. As all four scrambled to Brynden’s side. They afforded each other enough distance for follow through from their swords.

Catelyn looked to each of the men. Each with a unique connection to her.

Catelyn remembered her uncle sitting on the edge of her bed when she was a girl as he regaled her with tales of his knightly endeavors. He was a knight and commander to his men; stern and unyielding as any. To Catelyn, Brynden was an uncle and more. A source of comfort and one of her most ardent supporters. Brynden was the one she ran to in tears; not her lord father.

Catelyn remembered Edmure when they played at Riverrun as children. He had always been an emotional boy with a kind heart. They had been short with each other at times during Robb’s campaign, but there was love underneath it. Edmure endured her like no other. He understood when to bite his tongue and let Catelyn have her pragmatic moments.

Catelyn remembered Jon practicing in the yards with Robb and Theon. He was a brooding child with little reason to smile. She had done that to him. He could be very similar to Ned in some ways; far more Stark than Targaryen. Catelyn had seen Jon smile more often lately around his cousins, Jaime, and Brienne. It seemed he found his acceptance of late.

Catelyn remembered Brent welcoming Brienne into the Tarth contingent, when she thought herself little more than Tarth’s greatest disappointment. He was a good man. A man with his own young family who fled the safety of home to fight for the living. To fight for his Evenstar. Catelyn appreciated the kinship he offered Brienne.

Catelyn remembered her walks around the gardens with Addam. He always had a spark in his eyes. It was as though a little boy had taken permanent residence in the body of a true warrior. He had held her close before battle that day; his nose against her temple. “If any of those things get near you or Bran, it’s because I’m dead.”

Then the creatures were on them. Ice swords crashed down on valyrian steel and dragonglass. Those with dragonglass stood little chance. The White Walkers swords cut clear through the weapons and, in the process, straight through their opponents.

Gold Cloaks fell quickly, and panic surged through Catelyn at the sight of Jon fighting with only the dragonglass sword in his hand. Brynden screamed out in anger as he engaged one of the Night King’s generals.

“Finally! A proper sword fight!” His blade moved with a speed that Catelyn only associated with fighters the likes of Jaime. The creature was back on his heel as Brynden cut across the White Walker’s chest, shattering the creature on contact.

To his right, the White Walker facing Jon cut through Jon’s blade easily. Catelyn gasped as Jon barely moved back in time to dodge a killing blow, but Brynden’s sword quickly thrust into the creature’s side. The White Walker shattered into icy shards just above Jon.

Before Brynden could recover, another White Walker was at his side, and stabbed him through the side. Catelyn screamed as Brynden fell to the ground. At her cry, the creature’s eyes met hers. It looked curiously at her as it righted itself and moved towards her slowly.

With shaking hands, Catelyn raised her dagger and stood before Bran. Before the White Walker’s icy sword came down, the creature shattered. Fragments of ice blew into her face and hair as she closed her eyes defensively.

When the gust of wind accompanying the creature’s demise relented, she opened her eyes to see Jon; Longclaw in his hand. He moved back quickly to Brynden’s side and stood over him protectively. 

Taking appraisal, Catelyn saw nine White Walkers remaining amidst a swarm of wights. The Gold Cloaks continued to struggle against the White Walkers despite easily felling the wights.

A loud war cry from Addam caught Catelyn’s attention. With his fully bodyweight, Addam drove his shoulder into a White Walker. His effort barely moved the creature, but Addam’s objective wasn’t to sway the Walker so much as gain access to the its neck.

Thrusting his blade upwards, Addam’s sword exited the White Walker’s head as the creature shattered instantly. Before Catelyn could take a moment to process it, another shattered to Addam’s left.

Brent was on his knees and gasping for air. His blade, Brienne’s blade, slipping forward through the icy shards from the White Walker he just felled. When he moved to stand, Catelyn saw the stream of blood pouring from Brent’s side.

_Gods, no. He’s hurt too. Seven remain in service to the Night King. Our men are already weakening. There are too many and they’re too strong._

The Gold Cloaks numbered no more than fifteen now. They tried to slow the march of the White Walkers to afford their best fighters a chance for singe combat.

Brynden staggered to his feet. A pool of blood was collecting on the ground, as Brynden swayed and grabbed a piece of Jon’s broken dragonglass blade. Holding it as he would a hammer, Brynden seemed poised to bash any incoming White Walkers rather than swing a sword.

The cries of the dragons caught Catelyn’s attention. She looked up to see the living dragon making a large circle around the Keep with Rhaegal in close pursuit.

_By the gods. What is going on up there?_

The ability to think on it was short-lived. Catelyn heard Edmure. When her eyes looked down from the sky, her heart shattered into tiny fragments just as the White Walkers fell in death.

Edmure had taken an icy sword through the chest; his eyes wide in surprise as he looked up into the creature’s icy face. Before the White Walker could withdraw his blade, Brynden lunged forward and shoved the dragonglass shard into the creature’s neck.

Brynden screamed as the creature burst into icy shards before him. “Edmure!”

Clutching at Edmure, Brynden seemed to lose track of the battle for a moment. Catelyn glanced back at Bran who sat impassively; his eyes fixed on one undead figure just in the distance and closing in quick.

Catelyn wanted to run to Edmure and hold him in death, but she couldn’t leave Bran. She sobbed at her inability to comfort Edmure in death. To comfort him as she had so many times in their childhood and adulthood.

Turning away, Catelyn followed Bran’s eyeline and saw him. The Night King was just entering the godswood with his blade unsheathed and covered in blood.

In a fit of rage, Brynden grabbed Edmure’s dragonglass sword. He began to swing wildly like a wounded animal. Wights fell before him as he lunged forward. Jon called out for Brynden to stop, but he was a man possessed by grief.

Moving quickly to Brynden’s side, Jon blocked a White Walker’s blade as it took aim at Brynden’s back. The creature shifted its focus to Jon and began to push him backwards with a series of vicious blows. As the White Walker had the space to do so, he kicked Jon hard and sent the young man flying across the godswood before Catelyn.

The White Walker stalked forward with a deadly purpose. Glancing back at Bran and seeing no immediate threat, Catelyn made her decision. With Jon a mere ten feet away, she ran at the creature whose back was turned to her. Before the White Walker’s blade came down on Jon, her valyrian steel blade met the creature’s back.

When it shattered into a thousand icy pieces, Catelyn’s shocked eyes met Jon’s. He nodded quickly and righted himself as he collected Longclaw. Running back towards the battle, Jon returned to Brynden’s side.

The battle was now quite far from the weirdwood that Bran sat under, and Catelyn worried that the men were moving too far from the tree. Little aid was nearby should death approach.

As her hands shook from adrenaline and fear, Catelyn took appraisal once more. They had five White Walkers left to fell and the Night King was moving forward slowly.

Brynden was gushing blood and Brent looked no better. It was too much for Addam and Jon to handle alone.

A slight sway to Brynden’s step slowed his torrent of wild blows. Then Brynden faltered. A White Walker’s blade reached out and cut through Brynden’s dragonglass sword.

The end of the creature’s blade sliced through Brynden’s cheek and sent her uncle falling backwards. Jon was already engaged with another White Walker and struggling to reach Brynden’s side.

The White Walker stood over Brynden menacingly. At the sight of her uncle’s imminent death, Catelyn sobbed and called out to him.

Then Bran’s voice reached Catelyn’s ears.

“He’s here.”

_He?_

With a roar that shook the godswood, Jaime’s blade cut through the White Walker that stood over her uncle. A tear-filled sob of relief pushed past Catelyn’s lips.

When Jaime looked up, his face was covered in all manner of sludge and blood. It looked as though he ran through the Seven Hells and back again to arrive at the godswood. His chest was heaving as aid poured in from the direction of the Keep.

The rest of the Kingsguard, army commanders, and Bronn were at Jaime’s back and hacking away wildly at the wights.

A horrible sound at Catelyn’s back startled her. Wights were reaching out for Bran’s wheelchair as the rest of the fighters were engaged away from the weirwood.

“Get off my son!” Catelyn slashed out wildly and killed two wights quickly. As others slowly approached, she stood defiantly behind Bran’s wheelchair. A group of four wights lunged at Catelyn. They clawed wildly and one slashed through her left arm. 

Like a bear whose cub was threatened, Catelyn slashed at the creatures angrily. When at last, no more came forward, Catelyn stood and wiped at the sweat lining her brow. She hadn’t realized how far she had moved from Bran during her effort.

“Catelyn! Look out!” At the sound of Addam’s voice, Catelyn turned in time to see a White Walker raising his icy sword just five feet from her. Stumbling backwards, Catelyn tripped over a large root of the ancient weirwood. Before she could stand up and defend herself, Addam dove at her.

He curled protectively over Catelyn as the impact of his body sent them both backwards further. A sharp cry pushed past Addam’s lips. Catelyn couldn’t see what made him cry out, but he quickly moved off her and thrust his blade up at the assailant. The White Walker shattered before them and it was then that Catelyn saw his injury.

The White Walker left a long, deep gash down Addam’s left leg. Addam struggled to stand with his sword in hand. Stumbling backwards slightly, a wight seemingly came out of nowhere and stabbed Addam in the back, just below the armor.

In a fit of rage, Catelyn sliced across the creature’s neck with her dagger. When the wight fell unmoving to the ground, Catelyn rolled Addam over and grabbed his face. His eyes began to grow distant as blood pooled onto the ground below.

“Addam! Addam, you need to get up!”

The redheaded knight smiled softly and chuckled. “I’m just resting. I’m fucking old.” While he played at jest, Catelyn could hear the pain in his voice. He struggled once more to try and stand, but Catelyn’s attention was captured by something near the Weirwood.

Catelyn saw the Night King moving towards Bran. He cut through Gold Cloaks left and right as though they were naught by flies swarming a dead carcass. In what seemed one fluid motion, the Night King felled six Gold Cloaks instantly.

_Gods. He’s faster than any swordsman I’ve ever seen._

Then a horrifying sight froze Catelyn. As the Hound moved to engage the creature, the Night King disarmed Sandor in two moves. Thrusting his blade into the Hound’s gut, the creature lifted the Hound off the ground by his blade and dumped him to the side. It was as though Sandor was little more than a straw dummy.

From there, it all seemed to happen in slow motion. Catelyn’s frantic eyes scanned the battle before her.

_Jaime._

He seemed to have the same realization as Catelyn. There was no one left in the Night King’s path.

Jaime surged forward felling wights left and right. It was like watching him fight at Winterfell. His eyes were wide and locked on one target. The Night King.

He made shockingly quick work of another White Walker in a movement that could almost rival the Night King. Before he could fully recover, another White Walker was atop him.

Jaime barely moved his blade into a defensive position in time to block the creature’s strike. The blow was too strong and Jaime’s grip too loose.

As the blade fell from Jaime’s hand, the creature kicked Jaime forward forcefully. Jaime rolled towards Bran and just feet from the Night King.

With his sword too far out of reach, Jaime leapt to his feet and ran at Bran without a weapon in hand. Catelyn gasped and ran towards the weirwood with her dagger held before her. Bran was just out of reach and slightly uphill. Catelyn was too far away. They were all too far away. All except Jaime.

With everything he had, Jaime lunged and Bran and shoved him hard out of the way. Bran fell backwards several feet at the impact. Crashing to her knees, Catelyn pulled Bran backwards further as Jaime positioned himself protectively between them and the Night King.

“No! Jaime, move!” Catelyn cried out, but Jaime stood defiantly. She tried to stand up and get to Jaime with the dagger, but the Night King was too fast.

He pulled back his blade and shoved it into Jaime’s gut, just below the chest plate. As Jaime fell to his knees, the Night King withdrew his blade, but the delay was enough. A blade pushed through the creature’s back and exited his chest.

As the Night King dropped to his knees, his skin pinked as ice melted away from a frozen body. Catelyn’s eyes darted up to see Jon with his blade held firm in the creature’s back. A human face stared down in shock at the tip of the blade protruding through his chest.

The Night King slumped to the ground, and the wights remaining immediately fell. Catelyn’s panicked eyes looked to Jaime. He swayed on his knees and fell backwards.

“Jaime!” Catelyn’s words were half a sob and half a scream.

“Bran. Is Bran alright?” Jaime’s voice was fading as he struggled to breathe.

Moving to his side, Catelyn pulled Jaime close in her arms and sobbed. “He’s fine. You saved him. Don’t you dare die now, Jaime Lannister. Please.”

“Brienne. I want Brienne.”

Catelyn shushed him and held him close, rocking slightly. The living soldiers remaining slowly gathered around their king. They stood in shock at what had happened. Jaime’s breathing began to slow, and Catelyn’s tears fell onto his golden head of hair.

“Jaime.” Bran’s voice sounded human. It sounded Bran. Catelyn glanced back at her son who sat rigid in fear. Tears streamed down Bran’s face. The last time Catelyn saw him looking so human, he was but a boy at Winterfell; running around and climbing towers.

“Get a maester! Hurry!” Addam moved opposite Catelyn as he screamed to the men. A handful of soldiers ran towards the Keep in search of aid for their king.

As Catelyn looked back down at Jaime’s paling face, she sobbed harder. “Don’t you dare, Jaime. We’ll get Brienne. Just stay awake. Stay with me.”


	23. “It’s not ostentatious enough”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the battle, the soldiers recover and Catelyn reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a "quiet" in between chapter before the last few which are more plot focused.

The sound of the bedroom door creaking open caught Catelyn’s attention. She was seated at Jaime’s bedside working on a prayer wheel, but the process was taking longer than usual.

Catelyn’s hands shook from grief as she considered the lives lost, and the life of the man before her. Jaime’s life hung precariously between the living and the Stranger’s awaiting arms. His was a life that meant more to Catelyn than words could express.

Brienne’s face was drawn as she moved into the room. Looking at the young woman, Catelyn offered a sad smile. “How is Ser Brent?”

“No better than Jaime. The maester has done the best he can. Prayers are all we have left. If he could be moved, I would fly him to Tarth. He shouldn’t die here alone at this random inn. He should be surrounded by his family.”

Catelyn appraised the room they sat in. It was a small inn at the base of Aegon’s Hill. The castle was in quite a state, and the soldiers worked tirelessly to return the infirmed from the Maidenvault to their homes.

Brienne crawled into the bed beside Jaime and curled up close. It had been days since the battle ended, and Catelyn struggled to find peaceful sleep. Her dreams were tormented by visions of Edmure dying, wights clawing at her, White Walkers slicing through Brynden, and the Night King nearly killing Jaime.

_Nearly killing. He could die yet._

Catelyn looked back at Jaime’s ashen face. It was a miracle he still took breath. The wound was horrible and the maester feared that he wouldn’t live out the week. There had been so much blood. Catelyn looked to have bathed in it after they extracted Jaime from her arms.

The prayer wheel in Catelyn’s hands shook slightly as the thought washed over her. She couldn’t lose Jaime now. Jaime was her last sibling; even if chosen rather than blood. He was far more important to Catelyn than even she realized.

“What is that?”

Brienne’s weary voice called out from the other side of the bed as her arm draped over Jaime’s chest.

“It’s a prayer wheel. Mothers make them for their children to protect them. Only a mother can make them, but… Jaime’s mother is dead, and I won’t let him join her yet. I imagine that a _motherly_ Hand should be close enough. So here I sit.”

Sitting up slightly, Brienne peered down at the wheel. “I’ve never seen one before. Though I suppose I’d not have reason to. We were short of motherly figures at Evenfall.”

A sadness touched Catelyn’s face as she considered Brienne’s words. Memories flooded Catelyn’s mind as she looked back down to the wheel in her hand.

“I last made one for Bran. A prayer to the gods to let him survive his fall.” With a small huff of laughter, Catelyn glanced at Jaime. “I hated him for it. I wished Jaime dead in the most painful of ways when I discovered it was him who pushed Bran.”

Tears filled Catelyn’s tone as she continued. “As much as I had grown to care for Jaime, I’ve never believed that I could forgive him for that one act. That was until he pushed Bran again in the godswood.”

Stray tears streaked down Catelyn’s face. “I’ll never forget the sight of him standing unarmed between death and Bran. He was willing to give his life for my son. I need him to wake up. I need him to know how sorry I am for not forgiving him sooner. I need my brother to know that I love him; even if he is a great dolt who drives me insane.”

Wiping at the tears, Catelyn looked back to her prayer wheel.

“Do they work?” The question halted Catelyn’s progress on the wheel.

With a small smile, Catelyn looked up at Brienne. “I’ve made two before. I prayed to the gods that Bran would survive his fall and he did. I suppose I should have prayed that he would walk again too. I prayed to the gods that Jon would survive the pox. He is quite alive as you know. Now we’ll pray to the gods that Jaime survives this and returns to annoying me incessantly.”

Seemingly satisfied by the answer, Brienne rested her head back down beside Jaime. It wasn’t long before a knock at the door interrupted Catelyn’s efforts once more. She stood from her seat and stretched her achy back.

Glancing to the bed, Catelyn saw that Brienne had fallen asleep. The young woman had barely slept since the battle ended. She was constantly at Jaime’s side; holding his hand or helping the maester treat Jaime.

On the rare occasion that Brienne wasn’t in the room, she was checking on Brent or the other wounded.

There was a stillness to the men who had taken shelter throughout the city. No one would return home until they learned their king’s fate. The soldiers who survived the battle helped clear the bodies of the dead to be burned outside the city gates.

Moving to the door, Catelyn offered a sad smile when she noted the visitor. Her uncle’s sullen face greeted her when the door opened, and he marched inside. Despite his many frustrations with Edmure, Brynden was struggling with the loss. Cat was the only family that her uncle had left save for her children.

“How is our dolt king?”

The pair exchanged a small smile between them, but it faded quickly as Catelyn shook her head. “The maester thinks infection is setting in. The wound is not healing as well as he hoped.”

Brynden grimaced and averted his eyes. There was a strange bond that had formed over the years between her uncle and Jaime. Catelyn had always teased Jaime about his idolization of Brynden, but the respect was no longer one-sided.

Brynden had developed a paternal affection for Jaime. That bond seemed to strengthen when Jaime saved Brynden in battle.

Stepping into the room, Brynden moved to Jaime’s bedside and exhaled loudly. He muttered more to himself than anyone in particular.

“Damnit Jaime. You need to wake up if you want those tales from the War of the Ninepenny Kings. No one else is left to appreciate it. Well, maybe your wife here. She ruined the castle, you know.”

Placing his hand on Jaime’s head, Brynden grimaced. “You wake up. Your family needs you. Family. Duty. Honor.”

Glancing to the edge of the bed, Brynden’s brows furrowed as he caught sight of the prayer wheel. “By the gods, Cat. What is wrong with your prayer wheel?”

With an exaggerated eyeroll, Catelyn moved to the bed and grabbed it. “It’s not done yet. I’m working on it.”

“Work harder! Our king is dying here, and your wheel looks like something he made with his one hand.”

There was a fondness in his tone as he appraised the wheel. Catelyn knew it wasn’t her best work, but she couldn’t stop her hands from trembling. He eyes darted to Jaime and Brienne once more.

“I can’t lose him too. I’ve lost too many important people already.”

Brynden pulled her close and offered a firm hug. “It’s over now. Now more death. I’ll not let this infuriating boy die. We have Edmure to say goodbye to today. My arm is shit from the battle. I may need Brienne to fire the damn arrow.”

Catelyn sighed into Brynden’s embrace. She knew that Brienne would gladly offer aid, and in truth, Catelyn would have it no other way.

With a slight nod, Catelyn glanced at the bed. “I’ll let her sleep a while longer. Then we’ll head to the docks… or what remains of it.”

Brynden moved towards the door and took pause. “The ship from Tarth left today. They should be here in less than two days.”

A smile spread across Catelyn’s face. She longed to see Rickon, Arya, Sansa, and the twins.

_Gods. Even Tyrion would be a welcome sight._

Moving back to the bed, Catelyn picked up the prayer wheel and continued her work. When she was done, she set it over the bed and looked down at the couple below her.

It was likely Brienne’s first proper rest in days. Jaime was being kept in a poppy-induced slumber until the danger passed.

If it passed.

It was another week of waiting until the danger passed. Infection and high fever set in for much of those days. Catelyn, Brynden, her children, Tyrion, and Brienne huddled quietly around Jaime’s bed through it all. They took turns changing out cold clothes for his head, as the maester’s worked tirelessly to save Jaime.

Bran’s visits were the longest. It surprised Catelyn to see how worried Bran was for Jaime. The touchingly human moment from Bran in the godswood seemed to become a more regular occurrence. Most of Catelyn’s interactions were now with her son and not a raven.

His tone was more youthful and his words less cryptic. It seemed that some of his ability was lost with the Night King’s death. He could still warg and see past events, but his ability to see into the future was gone.

At times, Bran was disheartened by it. He grew frustrated that he couldn’t easily look into the past or future to try and find a more immediate cure for Jaime. The maesters seemed competent enough, however.

They tried all manner of salves to stymie the infection’s hold over Jaime’s body. The worst part of it was the fever-induced convulsions. When Jaime’s temperature became too high, Catelyn and Brienne had to hold Jaime down and pray to the Seven he didn’t bite through his tongue.

It was another long night of poor rest. Only two hours prior, Catelyn had fallen asleep with her head on the end of Jaime’s bed. She awoke with the sun as it crept in through the room’s sole window. Whispering voices drew her attention to the top of the bed.

Brienne lay on Jaime’s side; his arms wrapped loosely around her as they spoke. Her hand stroked through his hair, as her head was tucked close against his neck. Sitting up quickly, Catelyn choked back a sob at the sight of Jaime’s open eyes and smiling face.

“You’re awake! Thank the gods.” Catelyn leaned forward and put a hand on his head to check for fever. Jaime’s skin was temperate and his coloring good.

Catelyn had never been more relieved to see his mischievous green eyes as he glanced to her. He spoke teasingly as his head tilted back to appraise the prayer wheel.

“By the gods, Catelyn. Why have you brought Bran’s weird little tree inside? Was it not enough to sit under it for hours while fighting death?”

_Dolt. Gods I missed him._

“Shut up, Jaime. My prayer wheel is beautiful, and it worked. I guess I’m motherly enough that the gods took pity.” With a wide smile stretching across her face, Catelyn bent down to place a kiss atop his golden head of hair.

“Well it’s lovely. It will make a wonderful bird’s nest for the godswood. Bran will be pleased to have some birdy friends to sit with him.”

Catelyn stepped back and appraised the pair on the bed. They chuckled at Jaime’s jape and Catelyn couldn’t find it in her heart to do anything other than chuckle with them.

“I’m not certain how much time he’ll be spending there anymore. He’s a lot less raven this past fortnight. Much more Bran.”

A strange look flashed across Jaime’s face. Any mirth in his voice died when he glanced up at Catelyn. “Good. He’s remembering more of himself then. Does… does he hate me?” 

The thought had not crossed Catelyn’s mind. She recalled her own thoughts from a week ago, as she sat worriedly staring at Jaime’s broken body; begging him to wake up and live. Forgiveness was no longer a question. It was done.

“He cried when he thought you dead in the godswood. He has visited your bedside daily since. He misses your piggyback rides and ridiculous japes.” Swallowing down the pain, mirth filled Catelyn’s voice as she spoke more teasingly.

“It seems my three youngest are quite confused. They have been very worried over their _golden uncle_ as they’ve taken to calling you. Ned would be most displeased. Sansa has the right of it. She just thinks her goodbrother is being far too dramatic about it all.”

Catelyn smirked as she recited Sansa’s teasing words. In truth, Catelyn saw the fear in Sansa’s eyes after japing at it.

“I’ll get the maester. You’ve a few people waiting to see you, and the entire army refuses to leave until they know if their king lives.”

Stepping into the hall, Catelyn closed the door and leaned against it. In truth, she wanted to give them a moment alone. The maester should see Jaime, but that could wait. Right now, Catelyn knew that Brienne and Jaime just needed each other and their babes.

Sagging to the floor in relief, Catelyn buried her face in her hands and let silent tears of happiness slide down her cheeks. There had been so much loss from the battle. They lost just over half the living army in the battle.

By some miracle, most of those closest to Catelyn survived. Aside from losing Edmure, both Addam and Brynden patched up nicely. Brent finally awoke just two days prior. He was weak and shared an injury similar to Jaime’s, but it seemed that the gods had afforded him a second chance on life.

In the godswood, they lost Edmure, the Hound, Ser Boros, and all but six Gold Cloaks. The hardest part would be the loved ones coming in search of the soldiers who had fallen. Small groups of the city’s evacuees had begun returning to the city. Many returned to heartbreak, and Catelyn tried to offer what support she could.

“Gods… no.” Tyrion’s stricken voice shook Catelyn from her thoughts. As her tear-stained face lifted to meet Tyrion, she saw his face fall into a deep grief.

“No! Oh, I’m sorry, Tyrion. He’s alive. I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed. He just woke up.”

Tyrion clutched his chest and reached back for the wall. “Seven hells, Catelyn!”

After collecting himself, Tyrion moved forward and sagged to the floor beside her. “How is _his grace_ this morning?”

Huffing a small laugh, Catelyn turned her head to look at Tyrion. “You had the right of it. Mocking my prayer wheel was the first thing he said.”

“Good. I feared he might lose his charm after all of this.” Tyrion spoke sarcastically and looked to the ceiling; a wide smile stretching across his face.

“I couldn’t lose him. I don’t know what I would do. Sansa would likely try to bury me with him. I’d be far too pathetic and annoying in grief.”

Catelyn patted Tyrion’s forearm before he stood from the floor. “I’ll let everyone know. They are all breaking their fast in the dining room and planned to visit after. Oh… and you might want to tell your uncle. He’s created a trench outside the inn from his constant pacing. I do believe he is out there now.”

Laughter bubbled in Catelyn’s chest. Her uncle was always a source of comfort and rarely sought it out for himself. Catelyn could tell that he was struggling with Jaime’s injury, but she didn’t wish to embarrass him by vocalizing the observation.

Moving outside the inn, she smiled inwardly at the accuracy of Tyrion’s statement. When Brynden heard her approach and saw her tear-stained cheeks, his face fell. As she approached, Catelyn saw him swallow thickly and avert his eyes.

_Gods. Do I look that horrid?_

“Uncle.” At her voice, Brynden glanced at her.

“Come on, Cat. Give it to me straight.”

“Our king is ready for his stories now.” Catelyn’s lips pressed into a tight smile as Brynden crouched in relief and buried his face in his hands.

“Gods. Bloody fool. Standing before a fucking dead thing with not a single weapon in hand. I’ll knock him around the yards for the angst he’s given me!”

Catelyn smirked as Brynden stormed inside. She took pause and appraised the city. Life was slowly returning around them. The sun warmed the city as Catelyn glanced up at the Keep.

When she approached the door to Jaime’s room, Catelyn heard loud laughter and talking from the other side. Stepping inside, Catelyn was surprised at how full the room was.

Her children, Tyrion, Brynden, Addam, and Brent were pressed in close. Galladon was in Jaime’s arms as Brienne held little Cat. For as weak as Jaime looked, he was laughing loudly.

“Wait, wait. That’s why we’re at this shit inn?”

Brienne grimaced at Jaime’s question. “I only broke it a little bit.”

“A little bit!?” Addam huffed a loud laugh. “It’s properly fucked! The gods damned throne is melted to the ground with much of the hall destroyed. The only thing sound is the Maidenvault and the White Sword Tower.”

Rolling her eyes at Addam. “Well it was the bloody Keep or let the dragon eat you all.”

Addam guffawed as Jaime kept chuckling; his eyes locked on Brienne. “Does this mean that I don’t have to sit on the throne anymore?”

_Gods. This man._

“We’ll get you a new chair. You seemed eager to steal mine when you pushed me a fortnight ago.” Bran smirked from his position at the side of Jaime’s bed.

“Yes, well I changed my mind. It’s not ostentatious enough.”


	24. "The Evenstar wench and her lions"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and Brienne appraise the damage at the Keep. Brienne gives Jaime an idea.

Jaime laughed loudly at Brienne’s side as they stood in the courtyard. In truth, it looked more like a mound of rubble.

“Wench. This isn’t a little bit broken. Addam had the right of it. This is completely fucked.”

With a huff of annoyance, Brienne glared at Jaime. “It’s not that bad!”

Her words only served to encourage Jaime, whose laughter intensified. “Not that bad? I can see where the throne once stood from here.”

“It’s… a balcony now. Quite nice. Better aeration.” 

_Seven hells. This is definitely beyond repair._

An amused smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as he raised a questioning brow. “Better aeration?”

At the time, it seemed the best option to Brienne. Just entice the dead dragon to barrel into the Keep headfirst. Considering the state of things now, Brienne wondered if perhaps she could have held him off longer over the bay. From what the soldiers said, all the wights fell once the Night King was defeated.

Before she could form a response, Jaime’s right arm looped around her waist. “My wife killed two dragons. This is very sexy, wench.”

_Oh gods. Not now._

When Jaime’s lips came to her neck, Brienne felt him smile against her skin. “Not here, Jaime.”

“Why not? We’re indoors… I think. I can’t recall if where we’re standing was the entrance, or…”

Brienne pushed him away and rolled her eyes. They had a few builders appraise the Keep that week to determine the best path forward. While it could be rebuilt, it would take time. Jaime seemed disinterested in the prospect.

After everything they had been through, Brienne just wanted to go home. She had an idea, but it was likely to be scoffed at by anyone other than Jaime.

“What if we just leave it like this?”

Her question seemed to take Jaime by surprise. He studied her for a moment before questioning her meaning. “Leave it likes this?”

Brienne winced slightly as she looked back at the destruction before them. “It’s a Targaryen castle. Why not let the castle die with their House? It isn’t as though their recent generations have done Westeros any good.”

Brienne’s suggestion said seemed to set off a spark in Jaime. He grabbed her hand and began tugging her towards the godswood. It had been a week since he left his recovery bed. The maester thought it would be good for him to move about more, and today, he opted to take a trip up the hill. While he had seen the damage from afar, he wanted to see it up close.

“You’re a genius, wench. This is why I love you.”

Brienne failed to understand Jaime’s meaning, but she said nothing of it. Moving towards the godswood, they stepped over several piles of crumbled stonework.

The shakiness in Jaime’s limbs did not escape Brienne, and she worried if this was far more than the maester intended when instructing Jaime to ‘get some air’.

“This way is hardly safe, Jaime. You’re going to fall and hurt yourself. Lets go around.”

Steadying himself and sparing a glance back at Brienne, Jaime scoffed. “I’m a knight, wench. Surely I can handle a pile of rocks. Thanks to your efforts in battle, we now have a shortcut to the godswood where once stood a wall.”

When eventually they entered the godswood, Brienne saw Brynden, Catelyn, Jon, and Bran sitting near the weirwood. It was still strange to see Bran looking so human.

He smiled and laughed as a young man his age should. Were it not for his broken legs, Brienne would have thought he was a different man than the one who arrived in King’s Landing just over a year ago.

On their approach, Bran turned and smiled. “Uncle. Did your better half show you the way?”

Jaime snorted loudly at the question. Tugging Brienne along, he called out teasingly on approach. “She nearly killed me climbing over the rubble. Surely there was a safer way than all that.”

“What!? I did no such thing! You dragged me this way. I said we should walk around.”

Cutting them off, Bran’s words almost took on the edge of his three-eyed-raven persona. “I didn’t mean the way to the godswood. The way forward. Westeros.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed as she looked between Bran and Jaime. Something passed between them that Brienne could not read. Glancing to the others among them, it appeared that Catelyn, Jon, and Brynden were none the wiser.

Before Brienne could ask Bran’s meaning, Jaime spoke to Bran with irritation heavy in his tone. “Truly? You couldn’t have just told me all of it _before_? You had to make me sweat it out?”

Mirth was heavy in Bran’s voice as he looked up at Jaime. “You had to figure it out for yourself. You were the king after all.”

_Were the king?_

The vagueness passing between them unnerved Brienne. She glanced to the others for aid, but Brienne observed them staring in shared perplexity. It was Catelyn who broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, but what are you two on about?”

With a slight nod to Jaime, Bran turned his head to meet Catelyn’s inquisitive eyes. “When I returned to King’s Landing and shared information of Jon’s heritage, you might recall our king here having a bit of a temper tantrum over not getting to give the crown away.”

“I did not have a temper tantrum! I was being practical and honorable. Jon needed a castle.” Jaime seemed rather proud of himself for his contrived consideration in Jon’s needs. A magnanimous smile stretched across his face as he looked to Jon.

“I told you, I don’t want it. Besides, Bran said that even your wife would technically have greater claim if you want to revert back to bloodlines and claim.”

Shaking his head, Bran put the matter to rest. “It doesn’t matter. What I’m more trying to remind you of, were my words to Ser Jaime following his… stated preference.”

_Ser Jaime. Not King Jaime. Where is this going?_

“I told him that he was right where he needed to be. I told him that when the time comes, he would make the correct decision. I told him that Jon had a different role to play, which I do believe we’ve all been made fully aware of now.”

A sly smile spread across Bran’s face as he looked to his cousin. With a sigh, Jaime questioned Bran.

“Well you could have just plainly stated it all.”

The laughter escaping Bran’s mouth was the most youthful sound that Brienne had ever heard. It was pure mischief that caused Catelyn’s eyes to crinkle in delight. The Stark matriarch felt as though she had her son back, and she had been basking in Bran’s carefree spirit of late.

“Where would the fun be in that? In truth, I couldn’t tell you. When I had those abilities, I could see glimpses of things. Visions if you will, but they were blurry. I’m still not certain about it all and I’ve lost the ability now. One vision that seemed clear, aside from Jon’s and Brienne’s lineage, was they role they would each play. The dragon riders. The Prince who was Promised. Where it concerns you, uncle, I was not as clear. It became clear during the battle. When the dragons danced over the Keep and the stone crumbled, it made that blurry vision clear.”

_What is he talking about? What is this vision?_

Any jest was gone from Jaime’s tone and face when he asked his next question. “Did you already know the question I would ask you? Can you still even see that?”

Bran nodded. “I knew it then and I looked. It should work. There would be peace and prosperity. Our kingdoms are more at peace now than ever before; a comradery forged in hardship. They would work together, even while independent.”

“What?” Catelyn’s eyes darted frantically between Bran and Jaime, but all Brienne could focus on was Jaime’s growing grin.

“I’m going to return the Seven Kingdoms to independent rule. It was Aegon that forced them together and built his silly little throne. We should let it die with their House.”

Jaime’s head turned to Brienne. As realization dawned on her, she smiled widely and nodded. “We can go to Tarth.”

She wanted to cry with joy. Squeezing Jaime’s hand, she glanced at Catelyn, Jon, and Brynden. Jon seemed unphased, but Catelyn and Brynden appeared uncertain.

It was Brynden who spoke. “It’s not the idea that worries me. It’s the execution. Some of the kingdoms are too weak. They’ve lost their Great Houses.”

“Then they elect another.” Jaime’s tone was resolute. “I’ll hold a summit for the most influential vassals and Great Houses remaining. The North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the West still have their Great Houses. Only the Stormlands, the Reach, and Dorne will need to declare another. The Crownlands will likely need a formal ruler unless their land is divided out between the other kingdoms. We’ll help them through it.”

Bran nodded and met Brynden’s eyes. “The armies fought death itself together. The people will appreciate not being under rule of a kingdom or Great House which isn’t their own. Like the North, most kingdoms felt victimized by the crown in recent generations. This removes seeds of doubt, mistrust, and unrest. Now is the time to restore the Seven Kingdoms and be done with the Targaryen madness.”

Glancing at Brienne, Jaime smiled widely. “Besides, it seems the would-be kings or queens we know of, are already on good terms. Bran would have the North, and I doubt he will wage war against his sister in the West. He also won’t wage war against his cousin in the Vale nor his mother in the Riverlands.”

“No. I can’t be lord of anything.” Bran cut in quickly. “It’s not my role to play. I can’t continue a line, nor do I wish to rule. I prefer to serve. Rickon is heir. Him or Arya, though I doubt she’ll want to rule either.”

An understanding expression was exchanged between Catelyn and Bran. It was a topic that Brienne was quite familiar with. When Arya returned form Tarth, she expressed a desire to travel and pursue knighthood. She wanted to serve in other ways than that of a noblewoman. Catelyn had relented. More than anything, she wanted her children happy.

Jaime’s eyes drifted to Catelyn and his face fell. “I’m sorry about Edmure, but Riverrun is now yours.”

A wide smile tugged at Brynden’s lips as Cat’s jaw hung slightly. “It was always meant to be you, Cat. You were always the most capable of your siblings. You’ll lead the Riverlands well, just as you’ve lead Westeros with King Jaime.”

With an encouraging nod, Jaime smirked; his eyes darting to Brynden before returning to Catelyn. “I can venture a guess who you would name as Lord Commander of your Queensguard. I plan to steal him as Master of Arms for Tarth?”

“No! You already stole Brienne from me! Now you mean to take my uncle too? You’re the worst and I hate you.”

Brynden snorted. “I’m not certain. At least Cat wouldn’t run into battle unarmed! Might be a more stable environment than dealing with the Lannisters of Tarth. Thought… they do have the babes. The little ones like me.”

Catelyn huffed and considered it all. She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “Very well, Jaime. There is one thing that needs correcting, however. The North will not be ruled by Rickon. Rickon can inherit Riverrun if Bran doesn’t wish for it. Winterfell should be ruled by Jon _Stark_. Jaime, I would ask that you legitimize Jon as a Stark. He’s no Targaryen. We will continue to honor Ned’s lie. He’s a Stark. It was only us to know of it, and it will stay that way.”

Jon’s eyes went wide at the words. “My lady, I couldn’t. Winterfell should go to Lord Eddard’s children.”

“And you are his nephew. He raised you as I should have, but failed to. I’m sorry for it all, Jon. You are my family and would make a fine King in the North. We would be proud. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.”

“We’ll have ruling family in the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and the West. Our kingdoms will protect each other.” Sparing a glance at Brienne and Jaime, Catelyn smiled. “Though I believe we’ll find no trouble in the Stormlands either. My family there will beat anyone to a pulp who tries to move against us or the other kingdoms. With the Houses remaining in Dorne and the Reach, I think Jaime has the right of it. They’re good people. It could be a peaceful and supportive existence.”

Jaime’s excitement was palpable. He slung his arm over Brienne’s shoulders. “I can’t wait to be consort to the Evenstar. I’ll spend my days lazing about in the sun with the babes at the beach, while you keep the island running efficiently.”

_Oh gods. What have I done? I never should have destroyed the Keep._

With an enthusiastic nod, Jaime kept prattling on.

“This is going to be great. The Evenstar wench and her lions.”


	25. “Pretend to go into labor”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moon later, Jaime has a summit at the dragonpit.

It had been a moon turn since the meeting in the godswood. The summit was held at the dragonpit on account of the destruction to the Keep. After the meeting, a feast would follow wherein the soldiers who remained in King’s Landing would celebrate among their lords and, little did they know it, their soon to be kings and queens.

Jaime looked around the pit at those assembled. Each kingdom sat together forming seven sections around the raised dais. The recently legitimized Jon Stark sat before the North’s most influential vassals. He looked nervous, but Catelyn had proudly introduced him formally as the legitimized heir the day prior.

With Catelyn’s support, the North happily welcomed Jon. They knew him as Ned’s son, and that is how he would remain. The North felt a degree of comfort in Jon’s ability to rule, given his success as castellan. They were thrilled to boast that their lord, a Stark, defeated the Night King.

The Vale sat assembled behind Lord Robin who was joined by Lord Royce. The older lord would play a key role in helping mold the young man into a fine king. In a show of support, Ser Harrold made the journey to ensure a united front.

The Riverlands were gathered behind Catelyn; the only surviving child and heir of Lord Hoster Tully. Theirs was a more somber atmosphere given the loss of their lord, Edmure.

Fortunately, Catelyn was a well-respected leader, and with Brynden’s support, Jaime felt confident that there would be no questioning her role as queen.

Sitting beside the Riverlands was the West. Tyrion sat proudly beside Sansa who looked ready to deliver the babe right there in the middle of the pit. Jaime bit back a laugh as he locked eyes with his miserable looking goodsister. At his obvious display of amusement, Sansa scowled before sticking out her tongue.

Next to the West was the Stormlands. Jaime had never met a rowdier and more stubborn group of vassals. Brienne introduced him to the key vassals the night prior, but he only knew a handful of the lords personally.

Ser Brent sat among them, wearing Tarth’s colors proudly; though it was likely he would defer to Brienne on selection of a king.

_Gods. No wonder they partook in so many wars and were divided amongst themselves. I hope this group can agree on someone._

Brienne thought the Stormlands would bicker the longest, but ultimately settle on House Swann. They were arguably the strongest remaining vassal in the Stormlands now that House Baratheon was extinct and her father dead.

The Reach was next around the pit. Lord Paxter sat among them, and Jamie had a feeling that he would be selected. He was a sound leader and already a respected member of the small council.

Lord Paxter’s eldest twin, Horas, was already ruling at Highgarden with his wife, Lady Gywneth of House Yronwood from Dorne. Jaime imagined that Dorne would back Lord Paxter if the Reach struggled to declare someone.

If Lord Paxter was named king, it would make Horas heir and by default, Dorne had a connection to the Reach to ensure peace remained. The only other House that Jaime imagined could be in contention was House Tarly.

Dorne looked the least at ease in the pit. They had suffered great losses over the years, and many of their vassals were in no condition to rule. Surprisingly, Ser Manfrey Martell was quite alive and well. He was castellan of Sunspear and the last surviving Martell.

It seemed a forgone conclusion to Jaime that Dorne would back him as king once they realized why they had been summoned to the city.

Jaime and Brienne sat between the West and Stormlands. It seemed fitting given their Houses, but in truth it worked out that way by accident. As those assembled sat quietly and staring at Jaime, Tyrion cleared his throat and spoke quietly to Jaime through gritted teeth.

“Perhaps our king should say something.”

_Oh seven hells. Yes. That’s still me._

Standing from his seat, Jaime scratched his head and looked around the pit uncertainly. Catelyn usually did the talking, even if the ideas were his. This was a slightly foreign position for Jaime, and he was glad that it would be both the first and last time he endured it.

“We’ve called you to King’s Landing to discuss an important matter. I apologize that we’re here in the dragonpit rather than the Keep. My wife killed an undead dragon by enticing it to ram headfirst into the Keep.”

Brienne grumbled from her seat at Jaime’s side as a few of the vassals chuckled while others gasped. It had not gone unnoticed how many strained to appraise the Keep from their distance across the city.

“We are thinking it makes more sense to leave the Keep as is. I never wanted the crown. I simply didn’t want mad kings or queens on the throne. I’m going to return the kingdoms to independent rule. You are all here to declare your king or queen to represent your kingdom.”

At Jaime’s words, the vassals glanced excitedly amongst each other. Jaime smiled inwardly at the overt enthusiasm. Feeling emboldened, he continued.

“We believe it would be best to have a summit annually to ensure peace continues between the kingdoms. The soldiers came together to fight foreign invaders and death itself. You should all follow their example and work together to keep peace between our kingdoms. Once we determine a king or queen for each kingdom, we’ll have a smaller summit to determine how to work together. To set laws and expectations between kingdoms.”

One of the West’s vassals, Ser Harys Swyft, stood and raised a questioning brow. “Will you be returning home, your grace?”

Jaime snorted and shook his head in refute. “I’m to be the consort to the Evenstar of Tarth. Very important role. Very busy.” Jaime glanced to Brienne and winked teasingly before looking again at Ser Harys. Summoning his golden lion tone, Jaime spoke sternly.

“You have a liege lord at Casterly Rock. My brother, Lord Tyrion Lannister. He and Lady Sansa will make a fine king and queen for the West. Do any among you have objection to that.”

At Jaime’s tone, the West shook their heads in refute. They acknowledged their new king and queen without hesitation, and an appreciative smile tugged at Tyrion’s lips.

With a heavy sigh, Jaime appraised the kingdoms. “We should likely confirm the obvious kings and queens from our Great Houses and liege lords today. I imagine the North will have no issue backing King Jon Stark?”

The North cheered eagerly. “The king in the North! The king in the North!” A knowing smile stretched across Jaime’s face as he looked to Catelyn. He understood the North’s desire for independence. It was a desire born out of southern injustice at the hands of Joffrey and Cersei. 

Ser Brynden stood quickly at Catelyn’s side. “My brother has one child remaining. We lost Edmure, but Lady Catelyn has been returned to us. Queen Catelyn. She served as Hand to our king and I’ve witnessed firsthand what a fine ruler she will make for us. Of my brother’s children, she was always the most capable.”

At the Blackfish’s words, the Riverlands quickly backed their queen. When Brynden sat, Catelyn grabbed his hand and squeezed it appreciatively. Jaime felt his chest swell with pride as he locked eyes with Catelyn.

Next to the Riverlands, Lord Royce stood. “House Arryn has my support. The House has always been a strong liege and will make a strong ruler. King Robin is young, but we’ll support him through this.”

As expected, the Riverlands quickly agreed. Next was the Stormlands. Brienne groaned inwardly at the infighting to come. House Swann stood immediately, and Jaime bit back a laugh as he leaned into Brienne’s ear.

“Here comes the sales pitch. Do you think Estermont will object first?”

A smirk tugged at Brienne’s lips as she whispered in reply. “I’m betting at least five will object at the same time.”

Lord Gulian Swann smiled at Brienne and bowed his head. “House Baratheon would have ruled, but we all know what befell them. I think we’re quite lucky for it. I would fear for our kingdom under Stannis or Renly. Fortunately, we already have a queen and we aim to keep her. Queen Brienne Lannister of Tarth. The Evenstar and Queen of the Stormlands.”

_I’m sorry. That what now?_

Jaime gaped at Brienne who looked equally perplexed, but before she could speak, House Estermont stood quickly.

_Oh, thank the gods. The voice of reason._

Lord Eldon smiled and nodded at Brienne. “Lord Gulian has the right of it. Our dragonslayer! Our queen! The Evenstar!”

_What is happening. We’re meant to get rid of the crown. I intend to be at the beach._

Ser Brent stood next with a wide smile stretched across his face. His chest swelled with pride. “The Evenstar dates back to the dawn of days. They only came under rule of the Storm Kings when Evenstar Edwyn Tarth married his daughter and heir to Durran the Fair. Our Evenstars have always been capable of maintaining independent rule, and Queen Brienne would do a fine job for all of the Stormlands. No one will mess with the Stormlands with Evenstar Brienne and Ser Jaime leading the way!”

At Brent’s words, the remaining vassals stood to cheer loudly. It was the loudest declaration of a king or queen yet in the pit. Brienne looked wide-eyed at Jaime who sat in equal shock. With a huff of laughter, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Serves you right for being so bloody incredible. I bet you’ll think twice before you slay two dragons, kill a man the size of a mountain, and thrash about the mainland’s best knights.”

As the Stormlands calmed down from their excitement, Jaime’s eyes scanned the pit. Catelyn was smiling widely at Brienne, but when she glanced at Jaime, she could barely contain her laughter. She knew how excited Jaime was to see the crown off his head. It seemed that now, he would play consort to a Queen; not just an Evenstar.

The Reach was next and took longest. It wasn’t so much that they fought or contested one another, but that they took the time to discuss every vassal present. Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to remain engaged, but it was terribly boring.

After much back and forth, the Reach declared Lord Paxter. He would rule out of Arbor, but upon his death, Horas would remain at Highgarden and rule from there.

Last to be discussed was Dorne. Unsurprisingly, they backed House Martell and declared Ser Manfrey as king. Once the decisions were made, the smaller summit containing the chosen kings and queens began. The vassals left to join the soldiers preparing to celebrate at the feast.

Jaime grumbled slightly as he watched them leave the pit. He had planned on spending some quality time with his wench before the feast began. Now, he would sit at her side in the meeting to come.

Several items of note were decided upon. The Crownlands was a region previously ruled over by the crown. In absence of a unified Westeros, they would need a king or queen.

Unfortunately, they had no strong vassals remaining. The closest they had to a powerful House was House Stokeworth, but with Lady Tanda’s recent death, the House was left to Lady Lollys. Everyone agreed that she was hardly qualified to rule.

After debating the matter for some time, it was suggested that they divide the Crownlands in two. Anything south of the Goldroad and including King’s Landing, would fall under the Stormlands. Anything north of the Goldroad would fall under the Riverlands.

_Gods. More responsibility. Ridiculous._

While Jaime groaned inwardly, he felt a degree of responsibility to the people of King’s Landing. It was a city he sacrificed his own name for years ago. It was a city he served in for most of his life. It was a city he lived in as king for the past year.

He wished to help them rebuild, and as much as he was less than thrilled that Tarth would take on the role as ruler of the Stormlands, he was glad to help the people of King’s Landing. He decided it would be his personal project.

After conferring on the Crownlands, they constructed a plan to ensure their kingdoms worked together for generations to come. They would meet annually; a summit at the dragonpit. All sovereigns would form their own small council, including a Hand who would act as an emissary to the other kingdoms. The Hands would meet more regularly to discuss matters across kingdoms.

They also decided that each Queensguard or Kingsguard would have a knight from each kingdom. Seven knights; seven kingdoms. It seemed a theme throughout deliberations.

Basic laws were mapped out concerning behaviors across kingdoms. Any crimes committed in a kingdom would be judged there, regardless of where the wrongdoer was from. If there were grievances across kingdoms, the seven rulers would confer on the matter. 

Jaime grew tired as they mapped out more laws than he thought Westeros had people. Growing restless, he leaned to his right where Sansa sat.

“I know you’re as miserable as I am. Do something clever and I’ll owe you one. Pretend to go into labor.”


	26. “About that Queensguard role”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After leaving the summit on account of Sansa's feigned labor, Catelyn's night takes an unexpected turn.

“You’re my favorite goodsister. Did I ever tell you that?”

Sansa snorted as Tyrion and Jaime each gripped one of her elbows. “I’m your _only_ goodsister. Besides, my ass hurt in that chair. We were sitting there for hours, and I was starting to cramp up. I won’t forget that you owe me though. A Lannister always pays their debts.”

Jaime chuckled lightly as Catelyn stormed behind them angrily.

_I cannot believe they did that! Gods. My heart nearly stopped thinking my grandbabe would be born in a dilapidated dragonpit._

“You two are the worst! I truly thought she was having the babe, Jaime!”

“Oh, relax, Catelyn! We’ll have her lay down for a bit at the inn, and then her labor will magically stall in time for the feast. It’s perfect. A wonderful actress you have for a daughter.”

As Jaime glanced over his shoulder to wink at Catelyn, she scowled and looked back towards the pit. The rest of the summit attendees were slowly preparing to leave after Sansa’s impressive acting.

“How do you even know how it feels? You were rather convincing.” Catelyn couldn’t mask the impressed undertone coating her words.

With a slight chuckle, Sansa called out as she attempted to crane her neck backwards. “I watched you endure hours on the birthing bed with Rickon. It’s rather engraved into my memory.”

_Well, there is that. Gods that was an awful birth._

They walked a bit further, and Sansa stopped to fake another contraction. Catelyn snorted at the sight and admired her daughter’s commitment to the lie.

Jaime groaned and glanced desperately towards Brienne before looking back at Sansa. “I had some very important things to discuss with my Evenstar wench, Sansa. Can we hurry it up a bit? We’re far enough ahead. They can’t even see your efforts.”

With another groan, Sansa’s face reddened, and she clutched desperately at Tyrion. “I’m not acting. Gods. That hurts.”

Dropping to her knees, Sansa’s eyes went wide. “Oh gods. It’s happening. It’s really happening.”

Catelyn felt her heart skip a beat as she ran around Tyrion and crouched before Sansa. “Truly? Don’t jape now, Sansa! I haven’t the heart for it.”

Shaking her head, Sansa breathed through the pain. “I’ve been cramping for hours, but that one actually hurt.” Looking up at Tyrion, Sansa’s eyes went wide. “Tyrion. It hurts.”

Tyrion placed an arm behind Sansa and rubbed her back soothingly. “We’ll get you to the inn. Mayhap you’re just tired or overwhelmed. It has been a long day.”

Sansa’s eyes narrowed as she held Tyrion’s stare. “I am not tired! Do you want the heir to the West born on this dirt path!?”

_Oh yes. This is quite real._

Before Catelyn could encourage them forward, Jaime scooped Sansa into his arms and began moving quickly to the inn. His voice was teasing when he spoke. “Gods! How many lemon cakes have you been snacking on this past moon?”

“Shut up! I will have Brienne kill you off! She was ours first!” Sansa groaned as they made haste towards the inn. Brienne ran ahead to get the maester, as Tyrion ran to keep up with Jaime’s long legs.

“You’re doing great, Sansa. Truly. Wonderful.”

Catelyn chuckled inwardly at Tyrion’s attempt to reassure Sansa. Having been in Sansa’s position before, Catelyn knew that nothing could be more grating than the sound of your husband’s placating voice while in labor.

“This is your fault! It hurts and everything has hurt for weeks! My ankles are swollen. I can’t sleep. My back is sore all the time. And… my dolt goodbrother is right. I’m huge.” Sansa began so sob lightly as they moved quickly.

“You’re not _that_ heavy. I was japing. You’ll be fine. Brienne wanted to kill me too near the end of her pregnancy. Now she only wants to kill me sometimes.” Jaime tried to speak lightly, but Sansa felt another wave of pain take her and she dug her nails into Jaime’s shoulder.

Catelyn prayed to the seven that the babe came quickly. She hated seeing her daughter in pain and going into childbirth was always an unknown. It was not a guarantee that mother and babe would survive the ordeal.

When at last they arrived at the inn, a maester and Brienne waited outside. They guided the group towards a room that had been prepared for Sansa. Unlike Jaime who insisted on being in the room, Tyrion looked ready to faint before Sansa was on the birthing bed.

His line of questioning had Catelyn worried, and she did not think it wise to allow Tyrion in the room. Guiding Tyrion into the hallway, Catelyn looked imploringly at Jaime while Tyrion prattled on.

“What if the babe is deformed like me? What if the babe kills her as I killed my mother?” “What if…”

Putting up an understanding hand, Jaime guided Jaime next door and cut off his question. “Come now little brother. All will be well. Regale me with some of your more useless bits of trivia while we wait.”

Stepping back into the room, Catelyn watched another wave of pain ripple through Sansa. She gripped Brienne’s hand tightly and writhed in pain as Brienne encouraged her through it. A small smile tugged at Catelyn’s lips as she looked at the two young women before her. Her daughter and chosen daughter.

Moving quickly to Sansa’s side, Catelyn placed a cool cloth over Sansa’s forehead and shushed her. “You’ll get through this as you get through everything, Sansa. You’re stronger than you realize.”

“I’ll leave you both to it then.” Brienne smiled at Sansa and began to move from the bed, but Sansa grabbed her arm. "No! Don't leave me. Please, just stay here.”

With a wide smile, Brienne nodded. “Of course. I can’t wait to meet the little one. Let me know when you need anything, but I won’t leave your side.”

The next few hours passed in a blur. When at last the babe came screaming into the world, Catelyn felt tears sting the back of her eyes. Sansa and the babe were well. A healthy boy to add to Catelyn’s growing family.

When Brienne returned to the room with Tyrion, Catelyn smiled at the joy and relief on his face. She sat with them for some time and watched their enraptured faces as they looked upon their son. A beautiful family they made.

After putting their own babes to bed, Jaime and Brienne moved one of the twin’s cribs into the room not long before heading down to the feast. The cribs were he only personal possessions they insisted on recovering from the Keep weeks ago.

Missandei had offered to watch the twins that evening so that Jaime and Brienne could enjoy the feast with their people. The young woman from Naath had grown fond of the babes over the last moon turn. She would join a host of people on Tarth while figuring out where she wished to settle down long-term.

King’s Landing was not a city Missandei wished to stay in indefinitely. The young woman had seen much hate and violence over the years, and she wished to find a peaceful existence among likeminded individuals.

Looking at Tyrion and Sansa, Catelyn smiled warmly. “Have you given thought to names?”

At Catelyn’s question, the couple met her eyes. They briefly glanced at one another and smiled before looking back to her. It was Sansa who shared the name they had discussed prior to the birth.

“Eddard.”

_Well great. Now I’m to be a mess for what little remains of this bloody feast._

Catelyn held her grandson for some time before begrudgingly offering the babe back to Tyrion. When eventually Catelyn made her way towards the center of the city to join the revelers, she had composed herself just enough to not cause alarm in others.

Making her way through the sea of humanity, Catelyn found her family sitting together at a table outside a shop. Brienne, Jaime, Brynden, Brent, Bran, and Addam huddled together while Arya, Pod, Robin, and Rickon stood off to the side and pointed in amusement at a nearby table.

Following their eyeline, Catelyn grimaced as she observed Tormund standing atop a table with a horn in hand; wine or ale sloshing out in all directions. He had a large crowd of Westerosi and Wildlings surrounding him.

Jon stood nearby with some of the Northern vassals and laughed at the man’s antics. The wildling put on quite the performance as he recounted the tale of Queen Brienne’s slaying of two dragons.

Joining the table, Catelyn smiled at everyone and appraised the scene playing out before her. Soldiers, nobility, and citizens from all kingdoms mingled together as one, enjoying the feast and atmosphere. It was not unexpected, but it still seemed surreal to Catelyn.

“Do they all know they’re to be independently ruled?” Glancing at Brynden, Catelyn raised an inquisitive brow as she spoke.

Her uncle huffed a small laugh and nodded. “They do, but tonight they choose to celebrate as a unified Westeros with their king and queen.” Brynden inclined his head towards Jaime and Brienne who were deep in conversation with Brent and Bran.

Brynden continued speaking after taking pause. “Their king and queen who just spent hours awaiting the birth of their nephew. Congratulations, Cat. Very exciting. The West is pleased that their heir was born this night. Rather special.”

Catelyn chuckled knowingly and raised a teasing brow as she glanced to Jaime. She spoke loud enough to reach his ears. “Well I’m certain the West will _love_ their heir’s chosen name. Eddard Lannister.”

Jaime choked on his wine. As his hand came to his mouth and his face turned red from lack of oxygen, Brienne patted his back and bit back a laugh. Looking to Catelyn, Jaime looked aghast. “Ned fucking Lannister to rule the West someday. Gods. This is worse than finding out I need to do more than lay on the beach all day.”

With a loud laugh, Catelyn shook her head and looked around the table. Bran was in rare spirits and indulging on wine. He leaned somewhat sloppily against Jaime and needled him about losing the West to Ned.

“Bran. Have you decided what you wish to do?” Catelyn’s question drew Bran’s attention to her. A smile stretched across her son’s face.

“I have. As I said, I can’t be lord of anything, but I have a different role to play. There is a kingdom that finds itself with two rulers who, while incredible warriors, happen to know less of politics than other sovereigns. Fortunately, I’ve seen quite a lot of politics.”

“He’s going to give me a _hand_.” Jaime teased from Bran’s side and raised a brow at Catelyn.

_Oh gods. They can’t be serious._

“Sometimes, he just needs a _push_ in the right direction.” Bran returned the jape to Jaime who slapped the table in amusement and guffawed.

“This is already working out much better for me. I now only need to take on the responsibilities of consort, and we’ll have a Hand who appreciates my japes.”

Before Catelyn could comment, Bran spoke again to Jaime; mirth heavy in his tone. “I’ve already asked my aunt for a room at top of the highest tower that Tarth has. You can carry me up nightly.”

“Gods. You’re going to be a _handful_. Shall we cut down your little tree in the godswood and have it shipped to Tarth. I think we still have that lovely bird’s nest that Catelyn made. We can set it out for your little friends to enjoy.”

Catelyn continued to watch the pair go back and forth for some time. It had been horrific circumstances that brought them together, but the bond they forged over the past year was unbreakable. Catelyn knew that Jaime would care for her son as though Bran was his own.

Soon Arya, Pod, Rickon, and Robin joined them. Pod had also elected to go to Tarth. He wished to serve in Tarth’s army and, hopefully, be knighted by Brienne or Jaime someday. As their honorary firstborn, Pod was dear to them.

That evening, Brienne shared that she someday hoped to have Pod represent the West in her Queensguard. As a member of House Payne, he would meet the requirement as outlined at the summit.

As the hour grew late, the revelers grew rowdier. Soon, most were dancing as musicians played their instruments and sang loudly. While the younger children enjoyed one another’s company, Catelyn sat with Brynden discussing how unbelievable it all was. Then Addam tapped her shoulder.

“Are you going to dance with me now? I’ve had to sit here watching the King and Queen of the Stormlands make an awful showing of it. I’m certain we can outdo them.”

Taking Addam’s offered hand, Catelyn and Addam began moved beside Jaime and Brienne and began to twirl around. Catelyn felt like a girl half her age. It was a night that she wished would never end. She had a new grandbabe, peace in Westeros, and her family in one place.

When the song changed, Addam grabbed Brienne for a dance, and Catelyn grabbed Jaime. Pulling him close, Catelyn smiled. “Thank you for giving Bran a purpose and a home. He seems very happy.”

Jaime’s eyes darted to Bran before returning to Catelyn. “He’s a special young man. I wish he could still walk. He would have made a fine young knight.”

His face fell slightly at the words, but Catelyn shook her head. “He’ll make an incredible Hand though and he _is_ happy. That is what matters. I suppose now I’ll have to visit Tarth. How awful for me.”

“Gods, Catelyn. Always so obsessed with me. First you followed me about in the Riverlands. Then you trailed me north. If that wasn’t enough, you wouldn’t leave me be when I returned south. You insisted on serving as Hand just to be near me. Now you mean to come east. Do you intend to convince Bran to take Riverrun so that you can be my Hand again?”

Catelyn chuckled and shook her head. “You’re a great dolt. Now I remember why I never liked you.”

“Well good. The feeling is mutual.”

There was no bite in either of their words. Only jest. As the song ended, Catelyn pulled Jaime into a hug. “I’m going to miss you. You better take care of my Brienne and my little niece and nephew.”

Jaime chuckled against the top of her head, but he returned the hug. “Yes, well I _suppose_ I’ll miss you too. I would like to offer you Viserion as a parting gift.”

“No! You’re keeping that thing.” Waving a dismissive hand, Catelyn moved back to the table.

Jaime whined and followed close at her heels. “It’s a gift! You can’t return a gift. That is rude.”

Ignoring Jaime, Catelyn reclaimed her seat between Brynden and Addam. Addam poured more wine into everyone’s cups, but Catelyn quickly took Bran’s away. “I think that’s quite enough.”

Her son looked properly chastised, but he reached for Jaime’s instead. “I’m fine, mother. Leave me be or I’ll advise my queen to wage war on the Riverlands.”

With an excited yell, Jaime agreed fervently. “Yes! And, my Lord Hand, she was quite rude in refusal of my offered gift must moments ago. I tried to offer her Viserion.”

Brienne gasped at his side. “You tried to give away Viserion!? How could you? Honestly Jaime, he’s quite lovely. You’ve never given him a proper chance.”

Jaime looked aghast at the words, but it was Brent who spoke. “He’s not going to eat our livestock, is he?”

A slight grimace tugged at Brienne’s features. “We might need to tell the farmers to keep their sheep housed at night.”

As the feast carried on, Catelyn grew lighter on mirth and wine. Brienne and Jaime retired to check on the twins, which Catelyn knew to be code for an altogether different sort of activity. Her children, Pod, and Rickon, eventually joined Tormund and Jon. Catelyn prayed to the seven that none of them overindulged.

As if sensing her unease, Brynden leaned into her ear. “I’ll keep an eye on the children. Relax, Cat.”

Not long after Brent retired, Catelyn decided it was best that she turn in as wall. Addam stood to offer a dramatic bow which set off a wave of laughter in Catelyn.

“May I escort you to your _castle_ , your Grace? I fear that you’re Lord Commander is busy protecting the children from themselves.”

Taking Addam’s offered arm, Catelyn walked giddily as they japed the entire way back to the inn. Their bodies swayed and bumped together as they went; a warmth having settled across Addam’s features as he regaled Catelyn with more lighthearted tales.

It was a strange relationship that she had developed with Addam. Of late, Catelyn’s eagerness for their nightly walks confused her. She wondered if it was out of fear of missing him, or something more. A strange stirring in her heart made her take pause. It was a sensation she only knew with one man before. Love.

As they reached Catelyn’s door, Addam placed a delicate kiss to her knuckles and winked. “What will I do without our evening walks? Who will scold me when my stories are too inappropriate? Bronn is to head West with Lord Tyrion. You know that he won’t keep me in line.”

Catelyn hummed in consideration. “Mayhap if you ask nicely, I would consider naming you to my Queensguard to represent the West. I hear you’re a knight. Supposedly one of the best.”

A teasing grin spread across Addam’s face. “I would love to serve _under_ you, Queen Catelyn.”

Catelyn guffawed and hit his chest. “Gods. You’re truly awful. You do know that?”

They chuckled together for a moment, but as Catelyn collected herself and looked back into Addam’s eyes, she saw something there that made her take pause. Before Catelyn realized it, Addam’s lips were on hers. A spark ignited in her core and her hands slowly reached for his shoulders.

The kiss deepened and Catelyn felt as though she was freefalling. Then the sound of a jug falling to the floor broke them apart. As their heads snapped in the direction of the sound, Catelyn observed a rather debauched looking Jaime standing in only his breeches in the hallway.

His eyes were wide as he appraised them both. “What… the fuck… is happening.”

Addam’s hand came up defensively. “Now, Jaime…”

“I said _not_ my sister, Addam!”

Addam stammered slightly at the words. “No, no, no! This isn’t like that. It’s different. I…” Addam swallowed as his face reddened slightly. “I can’t let her go.”

At his words, Catelyn’s heart skipped a beat. Before another word could be spoken, Brienne’s voice called out from the room. The door pulled open as her head poked out into the hallway.

“Jaime. The water. Who are you…”

Following Jaime’s shocked expression down the hallway, Brienne snickered. “Oh gods, Jaime. Leave them be.”

“Brienne! He’s… he was…” Jaime began to point towards Addam as he whispered something to Brienne. Her hand reached out from the room and pulled Jaime backwards. As she did so, Catelyn heard Brienne’s whispered words.

“Truly, you can’t have been that blind. This has been building for moons.”

_For moons!? Gods. Are Addam and I no better than those two dolts were?_

Despite Jaime’s continued protests, the door to the room shut with a loud thud. Catelyn’s eyes darted awkwardly to Addam. He cleared his throat and looked into Catelyn’s eyes; his nervousness now as obvious as Jaime’s pining for Brienne had once been.

“About that Queensguard role…”


	27. “Lets walk to King’s Landing”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five years later - Catelyn plays host to Rickon's wedding to Lady Lyanna Mormont.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is the end! Thanks to all those who read the this very long fic from part 1. My goodness it was much longer than originally planned. I feel like Forrest Gump (I'm pretty tired)
> 
> On another note, I made an adjustment to last chapter based on the much appreciated feedback of a kind reader (fallpoutboy). I had very specific end goals for Missandei in this fic, but in order for that to play out as you'll read in this final chapter, I needed her on Tarth following the Long Night. In my attempt to find a reason for her to stay on Tarth while figuring out what she wants to do next, I thought to have Missandei offer aid in form of bridging care for the twins when Braime was stuck at court. Brienne did not want/trust a septa (damn you Roelle). In execution, I positioned this as a quasi-septa. It was pointed out that this is a harmful position for Missandei as it is analogous to a Black Mammy. While not my intent, the fact that it presented as such is horrible and saddens me. I apologize to any readers hurt by it. I've revised those paragraphs to instead keep it simple - Missandei is spending time on Tarth while trying to figure out what to do next. Thanks for the important education on the topic fallpoutboy!

**Five years later**

“Aunty Cat! Look at my sword!” The rambunctious five-year-old ran up to Catelyn with her wooden sword in hand. Little Cat was the spitting image of her mother from her skill with a sword, to her eyes, fair skin, and height. The only truly Lannister trait she possessed were her golden curls and mischievous grins.

“Let me see. What are all these lines?” Catelyn pointed to the slight carvings in the wooden sword questioningly.

The young girl looked up at her with a wide smile that reminded Catelyn so much of Jaime. “All the times I knocked Gal into the dirt. He really isn’t that good.”

Catelyn bit back a laugh and looked across the great hall to see Galladon sulking at Jaime’s side. Unlike little Cat, Galladon was all Lannister. Were it not for his bright blue eyes, he would have looked identical to Jaime.

A huff of laughter pushed past Catelyn’s lips. The Lannisters of Tarth had arrived at Riverrun days ago for the wedding of Rickon to Lady Lyanna Mormont. It was the morning of the wedding and many of the guests were breaking their fast in the great hall as Catelyn finished giving instruction to the castle staff.

With a final set of instructions to the attendant, Catelyn extended her hand to little Cat and guided the young girl back to the table. Bran, Jaime, Brienne, and Galladon sat opposite Tyrion, Sansa, Pod, and Missandei.

Pod and Missandei were laughing as they each held a babe on their laps. In the five years since the living defeated the dead, Catelyn’s family had grown immensely.

Jaime and Brienne had two more children; four-year-old Brynden, and two-year-old Joanna. Little Joanna was currently occupying Pod’s lap as he and Missandei laughed at whatever the young girl was saying.

Currently, Ser Brynden was carrying around his namesake like a proud peacock, and Catelyn couldn’t help but smile at his display of pride. Brent stood at Brynden’s side. They were each Lord Commander in their respective Queensguard, and they often found one another at such gatherings.

The swell at Brienne’s belly suggested that if the wedding didn’t get underway soon enough, they may be celebrating a marriage and a nameday. When the Lannisters of Tarth arrived, Catelyn had gasped at Brienne’s presence.

She had begged the young woman not to make the trip so near her due date; particularly since both Brienne’s and Jaime’s lines were prone to twins, which made for unpredictable deliveries.

Across from them, Tyrion and Sansa smiled widely as their eldest, Ned, tried to encourage Gal back to the yards. Ned had the Tully looks and Tyrion’s mind. He would grow to be a most impressive ruler in the West, and Catelyn’s chest always swelled with pride when she looked upon the young boy.

On Missandei’s lap was two-year-old Robb. The boy had golden curls befitting a Lannister, but Tully eyes and complexion. Unfortunately for Tyrion and Sansa, he seemed to be as unruly as his uncle. Everything was a jape and he had little interest in anything their maester requested of the young boy.

At Catelyn’s return to the table, she ruffled Galladon’s head. “Now Gal, are you sulking? You look like your father when he gets knocked into the dirt by your mother.”

Jaime scoffed and feigned offense. “I’ll have you know that I quite enjoy my wife knocking me around.” He raised a suggestive brow at Brienne as the young queen groaned in distaste. 

The twins spoke to one another in Valyrian before inviting Robb to the yards for another round of swordplay. 

“Gods. I can’t believe they speak three languages already.” Catelyn spoke more to herself than anyone else. At the words, Jaime snorted.

“How do you think I feel? Half the time I think they’re cursing me out. Lady Missandei had promised not to teach them any words to use against me, but I think she lied.”

Missandei chuckled and shook her head. “I make no promises. I hardly know what they’ve picked up in my absence.”

“Well all the more reason to come back to Tarth. I need you to help me understand what my children are saying when they conspire against me.”

Brienne sighed at his side. “You’ve truly picked up none of it? Gods, Jaime. You listened to the children’s lessons for three years.”

“I was busy doing consortly things, Brienne! I wasn’t listening.”

A loud guffaw pushed past Brienne’s lips. “Consortly things? Truly, you jest. What do you do?”

Jaime looked affronted as he raised his arms in exasperation. “Well I ensure the beaches are clean and clear from ruffians…”

“By lazing about on them all morning?” Brienne interrupted as a wide smile stretched across her face.

“I’m not lazing. I’m reflecting on what I need to accomplish in the afternoon.”

The fork in Brienne’s hand dropped as an incredulous expression lined her face. “Accomplish in the afternoon? Such as?”

“Keeping Lord Commander Brent in line. He’s very sassy, Brienne.” Jaime shoveled more food into his mouth as Brent rolled his eyes at Brynden’s side. The young Lord Commander was one of the finest among all the new sovereigns’ Queensguards or Kingsguards. Catelyn was thrilled to see the how strongly the bond had grown between Brent and Brienne.

“You literally do nothing all day.” Bran snickered from Jaime’s side as he shook his head.

“You’re all traitors. Every last one of you. I’ll have you know that I’ve done quite a lot for King’s Landing!”

“Up until two years ago. The city is beautifully restored now.” Missandei’s voice brought the conversation to a halt. Pod covered his mouth to smother the laughter from escaping, as his wife seemed shock by her own boldness.

Jaime guffawed. “You too? I thought we were friends.”

Missandei bit back a laugh and took a decidedly long sip of her water. Pod’s hand rubbed Missandei’s back as he looked lovingly at her. The young couple had fallen in love on Tarth and wed the year prior.

They now lived in the West, as Pod had been awarded his House’s seat. They were currently expecting their first as Missandei entered her fifth moon of pregnancy. While Pod served in Tyrion’s Kingsguard, Missandei took on the role of Hand to Tyrion.

Catelyn knew that Brienne was sad to see the pair go. In a way, she and Jaime looked to Pod as a son. Brienne had also come to develop a strong friendship with Missandei.

Looking down the table, Catelyn smiled at Bran. She had been pleased to see him so happy and well. The bond between Jaime and Bran had only grown stronger over the years. As much as they teased one another endlessly, their care for each other was evident, and they made a strong team in support of Brienne.

While the group gave Jaime a hard time, Catelyn was impressed by all he had done. King’s Landing was thriving as evidenced by the summit held just a few moons ago. They met annually on the anniversary of the Night King’s defeat. It served as a reminder to all what they fought and what mattered most. Life.

The kingdoms had remained peaceful during those five years. They worked together well, and Catelyn was happy to see smiling faces lining the hall that morning.

Laughter and the sound of fast approaching footsteps caught Catelyn’s attention. Her lips tugged into a wide smile as she saw Addam chase their four-year-old son, Jaime, around the corner. She and Addam had married three moons after the Long Night. He was an incredible husband and father.

At their approach, Jaime spun around in his chair and extended his arms to the redheaded boy who laughed uproariously. Little Jaime was the future of House Marbrand and the delight of court at Riverrun. He had an infectious personality like this father, but the energy of his half-sister, Arya.

Arya had arrived at Riverrun the night prior. Much to Catelyn’s surprise, Arya had wed in secret a year prior. She married Robert’s last surviving bastard, Gendry. He still went by his bastard name when they wed, but when Brienne named him Lord of Storm’s End, Gendry took the Stark name.

Catelyn had inquired as to why they didn’t take the Baratheon name. It sounded as though Brienne was happy to make it so, but Arya had only laughed again and shook her head.

_“There must always be a Stark at Winterfell, and there must always be a Stark in the Stormlands to give Uncle Jaime a hard time.”_

With Arya at his side, they made a competent young pair.

When Catelyn nearly died of shock at Arya’s visit to Riverrun a few moons ago with Gendry at her side, Arya only chuckled and shrugged. “I found him rowing about in the middle of the Narrow Sea. I figured ‘why not’.”

_This child will be the death of me._

Of course, in typical Arya fashion, she was content to purchase all the moon tea which apparently Jaime and Brienne forgot how to brew. She was determined to earn her knighthood before children came into the picture, if at all.

Catelyn admired her daughter’s determination and focus. She didn’t need a husband to be happy, but she found one who made her smile regardless. She didn’t need a castle to feel she had purpose, but she happened to live in one. She didn’t need children to feel complete, but she enjoyed loving on her young nieces and nephews.

As Addam approached, he leaned in to place a kiss to Catelyn’s lips, but Jaime shoved his hand in the way as he stood from his seat with little Jaime in his arms. “Ugh, gods. Enough. We don’t need to see that.”

“It’s been four and a half years, Jaime.” Catelyn swatted Jaime’s hand away as she smiled warmly at Addam.

When Ned died, Catelyn thought it the last time she would love romantically. Addam had proven her wrong, and while Ned would always have a piece of Catelyn’s heart, Addam now held the rest of it.

“Come now, little Jaime. Your delicate eyes don’t need to see that nastiness. Lets work on your sword technique in the yards.”

The little boy clapped excitedly. “Uncle Jaime, can I use your sword!?”

“You want to use Widow’s Wail?” Mirth was in Jaime’s tone as they walked towards the yards. Both Catelyn and Addam shouted in unison after the pair.

“No!”

Catelyn huffed in vexation at the pair of Jaimes. In truth, she couldn’t imagine a better role model for her son than her chosen brother. It was the easiest naming decision for her and Addam when their son was born. Their families saw each other frequently. They invented all manner of diplomatic reasons, but in truth, Jaime and Catelyn missed each other.

The last of Catelyn’s family to arrive at Riverrun had been Jon. She almost didn’t recognize him. There was an air of maturity, confidence, and acceptance, that was refreshing to see. It had built slowly over the years as he led the North. Now as he was surrounded by family for non-political reasons, Jon shone brighter than ever.

As Jon strolled into the room with his wife at his side, Catelyn chuckled and rolled her eyes. Like Jaime, Jon had refused to marry for political reasons. He was content to rule alone until he found a woman to capture his heart.

Catelyn heard of the woman who Jon fell in love with north of the Wall, and her heart broke for him. She hoped that in time, Jon would find love. It seemed he had.

Jon wed Sam Tarly’s sister, Lady Talla Tarly. When she heard of the match, Catelyn breathed a sigh of relief. She supported Jon’s decision to marry for love, but there had never been a more important time than the present to forge alliances across kingdoms.

That Jon ended up wedding the second most influential House in the Reach was a welcome sight. Catelyn’s eyes appraised the young babe in Talla’s arms. They had a one-year-old girl, Brienne Stark.

After the Long Night, there was a never-ending sea of Jons, Jamies, Briennes, and Catelyns named across the Seven Kingdoms. When Jon announced the name, Catelyn was hardly surprised. The young man had kept in close contact with Jaime and Brienne.

He had formed a strong bond with them at King’s Landing, and Catelyn knew that he admired the pair. While Jon wouldn’t admit it, Catelyn was convinced Jaime’s and Brienne’s relationship was the reason that he refused to marry for any reason other than love.

When Jaime and Brienne weren’t visiting family in the Riverlands or the West, they were visiting the North. Jon and Brienne teased Jaime at how amusing it would be if Jaime Marbrand and Brienne Stark fell in love. They would lead House Marbrand, a vassal to King Eddard Lannister.

Catelyn had laughed for hours the first time the pair japed at it, but Jaime found it anything but amusing.

_“How dare you condemn my wonderful nephew and that lovely young girl to a life of torture. I suppose their names make for a perfect match, but I would urge House Marbrand to relocate their castle to a more agreeable kingdom. Perhaps the Stormlands.”_

They all sat together and spoke for some time before everyone retired to their rooms to dress for the wedding. The day passed in a blur for Catelyn. She watched her youngest son marry the young Mormont who caught his eye during the last visit North. It was a youthful love that Catelyn believed would grow strong and stand the test of time.

Lyanna was a true force, and she reminded Catelyn of Brienne and Arya. She would make a fine match for Rickon and their union would further strengthen the relationship between the Riverlands and the North.

Each kingdom’s king or queen attended the wedding. It was a light affair filled with mirth and joy. Catelyn was particularly excited to get more time with Genna. She saw less of the woman over the years as she often stayed behind at Casterly Rock.

Like Brienne and Jaime, Sansa and Tyrion preferred a less traditional approach for the care of their boys. Beyond the maester’s efforts, Genna offered aid to watch her great-nephews. She smothered the boys with love and regaled them with tales of their family’s efforts in the wars from years past.

Scanning the feast, Catelyn smiled at the sight of Genna playing with all the children from her seat at the table to the side. At her side, Ser Bronn said something inappropriate enough to elicit an eye roll and swat from Genna. The sellsword served as Lord Commander of Tyrion’s Kingsguard.

Catelyn had worried at the choice, but she saw how fiercely Bronn cared for Tyrion and Sansa. He took his job surprisingly seriously, and as a thanks for his loyalty over the years, Tyrion awarded him Clegane Keep.

It was still sad to think on the loss of Sandor. He was rough around the edges, but like Jaime, a misunderstood man. Catelyn imagined he would have smiled more in the new world that the living built together.

_Well, I suppose that’s a bit dramatic. Knowing the Hound, he would have said, ‘You’re all a bunch of sappy cunts.’. I would have seen the hint of a smile at his lips though._

Looking around the hall, Catelyn felt full. Her heart had grown in ways she never thought imaginable. She thought back on Robb then.

When he was born, she couldn’t imagine ever loving another human as much as she loved her newborn babe. A slight fear had gripped her when she found out that she was pregnant again. She wondered if she had enough love to give. She was surprised and delighted when she found her heart only grew to accommodate a new love. A new babe.

Like her heart growing to accommodate new babes, Catelyn’s love for her chosen family elevated her to new levels.

_All this because of a prisoner exchange. An exchange for a man whose life I valued as much as mud on the heel of my boot. Now that insufferable man has wedged himself into the center of my heart and holds my babes as dearly as I do._

Catelyn’s eyes fell on Jaime. His arm patted Bran on the back as he laughed loudly at whatever her son was saying. He nodded to Arya and Jon who were joining in on the jape the table had going. Of course, Brienne and Sansa only rolled their eyes and pretended at exasperation. 

_Brienne. Gods. The girl I stole away from Renly’s camp with. I had been so wrong about her. I once thought her an unfortunate girl who could never make a match. I assumed she wanted little more than to swing a sword around. I thought her ambitions like Arya, but she has always been like Sansa. Maiden’s hearts._

Addam walked to Catelyn’s side and placed an arm around her waist. Tugging her close, he placed a kiss to her temple as they appraised the room from the back of the hall. “A successful wedding for the future king. Hopefully by the time he takes the crown, his grandbabes will be near old enough to rule.”

Catelyn snorted and wrapped her arms around Addam. “Gods. If we’re to be that old, we’ll need someone to change our nappies and spoon feed us as if we’re babes ourselves.”

As Addam’s nose nuzzled close at Catelyn’s head, he chuckled into her head. With another kiss to her head, he spoke quietly for her ears alone.

“Rickon is nervous about the bedding. I told him that I’d help them escape before everyone gets too rowdy. I better get over there now.”

_Gods. My baby boy intends to do that with his bride tonight. I can’t handle anymore._

With a smile and appreciative nod, Catelyn watched Addam covertly make his way towards the front of the hall. Taking a deep breath, Catelyn decided to step outside and get a breath of fresh air. It was a clear night and her favorite time to lay beneath the stars as she did so many years ago.

Making her way outside, Catelyn breathed in the crisp night air. She glanced up at the stars and smiled as she found a quiet spot in the tall grass. The night reminded her of so many when her father hosted great feasts, and she snuck out to clear her mind and take in the fresh air.

Looking up at the stars, Catelyn continued to think back on her journey over the years. The cool breeze pushed the blades of grass against her skin. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear her father’s loud laughter inside. She could hear Lysa laughing loudly at Petry’s horrible japes. She could hear Edmure running the halls.

_Edmure. Gods I miss him._

Then she heard her brother’s voice. Not Edmure’s. Jaime’s.

“What are you doing out here?”

Catelyn chuckled at the question that had once escaped her own lips many years ago when she caught Jaime sitting in the same field under the night sky. As he approached, Catelyn tilted her head back and smiled. She remembered his response to her that night when she asked the same question.

_“Hiding from your sister.”_

With a hint of jest in her tone and wondering if Jaime would remember the scene and conversation, she used similar words now.

“Hiding from my brother.”

Jaime guffawed and nodded approvingly as he sat next to her. His next words proved just how vividly he remembered the scene as well.

“He isn’t that bad.”

Keeping the game going, Catelyn turned her head to meet his teasing eyes.

“He’s no Tully.”

Chuckling, Jaime shook his head and appraised the night sky. He kept the jape up as his voice was laced with mirth. “No, but I hear he’s going to be a great knight. He says they’ll need a separate White Book for all his great deeds alone.”

Removing any mirth from her tone, Catelyn patted his arm. “They will.”

The response seemed to catch Jaime by surprise. His head turned quickly to appraise her as his brows furrowed. Before the moment became too sentimental, Catelyn’s lips quirked slightly.

“They’ll need a second book for his deeds, because his wife’s entry has taken up all the remaining pages.”

Jaime guffawed loudly; his head nodding enthusiastically. “Yes. I’ve been pestering her and your uncle for tales of their knightly deeds all night, but I think they’re hiding from me somewhere.”

“Did you check the privy? I always found my uncle was there when hiding from you.”

More footsteps captured Catelyn’s attention and she craned her neck to see Brienne approach. The poor thing looked ready to pop.

_Gods. Why would I not be surprised if she has another set of twins in there? The poor thing._

Jaime cackled and moved to help Brienne sit. “Gods, wench! Are you certain you can do this? We’ll need all of Catelyn’s Queensguard to get you back up.”

A warning look from Brienne was enough to shut him up. He placed a loving kiss to the side of Brienne’s head as Brienne reclined to her elbows while stretching out her long, lean legs. It always amused Catelyn how thin Brienne remained throughout her pregnancy despite carrying entirely at her front.

The three of them sat in silence for a moment as another memory came to Catelyn. She remembered the night under the stars outside the Twins. The night that memories of Robb haunted her, and Catelyn couldn’t find sleep in the castle. Brienne and Jaime had joined her then; refusing to let her suffer alone.

It was the three of them at the start of it all. The start of Catelyn’s second life. She lost much during the War of the Five Kings, but it wasn’t without its gains. The two at her side were proof enough of that.

With a mischievous smile, Jaime broke the silence.

“Lets do something. Being in the Riverlands makes me want to go on an adventure. Lets walk to King’s Landing.”


End file.
